PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 


BUT,   MA  BIEN-AIMEE,    HE  IS  THEN   GOOD,  THAT  ROSS   CUTHBERT 

[See  p.  304 


PHILIPPA  AT 
THE  CHATEAU 


By 

Margarita  Spalding  Gerry 

Author  of 
"PHILIPPA'B  FORTUNE,"  "THE  TOT  SHOP,"  «rc. 


Harper   Sf   Brothers 

Publishers 

New    York    and    London 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Copyright,  1922 
By  Harper  &  Brothers 
Printed  in  the  U.  S.  A. 

First   Edition 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


"BUT,  MA  BIEN-AIMEE,  HE  Is  THEN  GOOD,  THAT 

Ross  CUTHBERT"  Frontispiece 

THE  EXPRESSION  ON  HER  FACE  SOMEHOW  MADE 
PHILIPPA  FEEL  GUILTY  TO  HAVE  WITNESSED 
IT  WHEN  THE  GIRL  DIDN'T  KNOW  ANYONE 
WAS  LOOKING  Facing  p.  18 

To  His  SURPRISE,  BOULDEN  HAD  CAREFULLY 
SHIPPED  His  OARS  AND  WAS  STANDING 
UP  IN  THE  BOAT  AND  WAS  DELIBERATELY 
ROCKING  IT  "  148 

ALL  AT  ONCE  SHE  STARTLED  THE  ABSORBED 
PAIR  BY  STANDING  UP  IN  THE  SLEIGH — 
"LET  ME  OUT!"  .,  "  276 


2129924 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE 
CHATEAU 

CHAPTER  I 

"  rTTi!ENS)    how    you    are    overwhelmed ! 

/  What  right  has  a  schoolgirl  with  so 
many  clothes?  Even  an  American  school- 
girl?" Mademoiselle  Mimi  could  not  have 
failed  to  observe  the  box  of  candy  Philippa 
had  put  down  to  open  the  door.  But  she 
scrupulously  ignored  it,  and  showed  nothing 
but  solicitude  in  her  sparkling  face.  "I  have 
come  at  just  the  right  moment  to  give  you 
the  most  sage  advice." 

"Indeed,  I  need  it,"  said  Philippa,  heartily. 
"You  see,  I  had  to  have  clothes  for  so  many 
different  kinds  of  things:  traveling,  staying 
at  Murray  Bay,  making  visits  to  Mother's 
old  friends.  And  sometimes  we  have  needed 
thin  things,  and  on  the  Saguenay  it  was  as 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

cold  as  winter.  Then,  when  I  decided  to  stay 
here  at  school  and  we  bought  all  the  things 
in  Montreal  that  Mother  thought  I'd  need,  she 
said  I  hadn't  any  idea  of  what  a  Canadian 
winter  would  be.  Why,  Mademoiselle,  every- 
thing that'll  hold  clothes  in  this  room  is  full 
and  not  half  the  things  have  been  put  away." 
Philippa  made  one  of  her  unconsciously 
dramatic  gestures  of  despair. 

"This  is  assurement  one  of  those  moments 
when  'a  feller  needs  a  friend,'  as  your  Ameri- 
can droll  artist  says  it.  It  is  now  the  moment 
for  the  wise  instructor  to  tell  you  a  little  how 
to  use  the  head  instead  of — the  muscles." 
This,  with  a  funny  glance  at  the  distracted 
piles  of  clothing. 

"Do.  And  do  have  some  candy.  I  just 
found  this.  Mother  tucked  it  away  without 
my  knowing  it.  I  suppose  she  knew  just 
how  I'd  feel  at  this  stage.  It  isn't  half  as 
much  fun  eating  it  alone." 

Mademoiselle  Mimi  went  to  the  door  she 
had  just  closed  and  inspected  the  corridor  up 
and  down. 

"It  might  well  be,"  she  said,  as  she  closed 
it  again,  "that  some  of  the  girls  have  already 
arrived — sometimes  they  motor  down  from 

2 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Montreal  or  Quebec.  They  might  follow 
me  here.  And  they  would  never  again  regard 
me  with  the  same  awe  if  they  knew  how  I  am 
gourmande  for  the  bons-bons — how  like  a  pig 
I  am  for  the  candy,  I  should  say." 

"Now  I  know  I'm  glad  I  decided  to  stay 
here  and  learn  French.  Does  French  make 
everything  sound  so  much  better?  But — 
honest — do  they  feel  awe  for  you?" 

"You  do  not  think,  then,  that  mes  eleves — 
pupils  I  should  have  said — I  am  yet  in  the 
vacation  habit  of  talking  my  own  tongue. 
Do  you  not  think  I  am  fitted  to  inspire  with 
fear  ?  But  wait,  then,  you  very  cocky  Ameri- 
can girl.  You  will  see.  It  is  only  because 
you  are  the  daughter  of  my  mother's  old 
friend  that  I  permit  you  to  approach  me  sans 
ceremonie.  Also,  that  I  permit  myself  to  sit 
on  your  bed  and  devour  your  candy." 

She  did  so  seat  herself  and  her  cheeks  had 
a  deeper  pink  and  her  eyes  had  a  brighter 
sparkle  as  she  selected  with  satisfaction  a 
large  and  rich  chocolate.  And  every  separate 
black  curl  on  her  head  seemed  to  crisp  with 
delight  as  her  small  white  teeth  met  in  it. 

Sitting  thus,  one  little  foot  tucked  up  under 
her,  Mademoiselle  Mimi  seemed  no  more 

3 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

grown  up  than  fifteen-year-old  Philippa  her- 
self. She  certainly  held  up  her  own  end  in 
the  forays  on  the  candy.  But  between 
mouthfuls  she  instructed  Philippa. 

"All  you  have  that  is  warm  you  must  have 
where  you  can  get  at  it  easily  every  day — 
your  fur  coat,  school  uniforms,  sweaters, 
coats.  You  have  already  been  told,  you  say, 
of  the  woolen  stockings  for  the  house  and  the 
woolen  over-stockings  for  outdoors.  Woolen 
bloomers  you  have — or  do  you  wear  tights? 
For  myself,  I  wear  tights  for  I  admire  the 
svelte  lines,  and  svelte  lines  do  not  accord 
with  bloomers — especially  as  I  have  a  tend- 
ency deplorable  to  be  not  quite  so  thin  in  the 
hips  as  are  the  angle-worm  ladies  of  the 
fashion  papers.  I,  myself,  can  not  see  where 
they  bestow  all  the  organs  the  books  on  physi- 
ology seem  to  think  are  requisite."  She 
paused  to  laugh,  a  musical  little  laugh. 
"Then,  for  les  grandes  occasions,  when  the 
English  families — who  are  more  English  than 
the  English — of  this  lar-r-r-ge  place  assemble 
for  one  of  the  soirees  for  which  the  Chateau 
de  Liberte  is  justly  celebrated  you  will  need 
the  afternoon  frock.  Then  you  may  wear  a 
costume  of  taffeta  or  crepe  de  chine — not 

4 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

decollete — that  is  not  permitted — but  thinner 
than  your  Sunday  dress." 

"Then  the  girls  here  do  wear  'Sunday 
dresses/  "  Philippa  said,  laughing.  "Mother 
insisted  that  I  should  have  one.  I  didn't 
know  what  she  meant.  But  I  said  if  I  had 
to  have  a  warm  dress  besides  the  uniform  it 
would  have  to  be  duvetyn.  And  I  have  two 
afternoon  dresses,  Mademoiselle." 

"Then  decide  which  one  you  cannot  live 
without  and  hide  the  other,"  said  Mademoi- 
selle gravely.  "For  then  you  will  be  like  all 
the  others.  If  you  try  to  make  a  Sunday 
dress  do  for  an  afternoon  dress  you  are  un- 
like the  others  and  if  you  have  two  afternoon 
dresses  you  are  unlike  them  because  the 
Chateau  encourages  the  simple  things.  With 
school  girls — or  school  boys — it  is  never  safe 
to  have  more  or  less  than  the  average." 

"I  don't  think " 

"Not  in  the  States  perhaps,  but  here  it  is 
so,"  Mademoiselle  said  with  finality,  reach- 
ing for  another  bon-bon.  "How  I  am  gour- 
mande  for  the  sweets,"  she  interpolated  again, 
a  certain  self-reproach  in  her  voice.  "This 
must  truly  be  the  last.  Yes,  you  will  find  use 
for  a  while  in  the  fall  for  that  sport  suit,  and 

5 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

the  tailleur  you  will  wear  to  church  until  it 
grows  too  cold.  These,  with  plenty  of 
blouses,  are  the  things  you  will  need  to  have 
in  your  closets  or  bureau  drawers,  with  a  hat 
for  Sunday  and  the  tuque  that  I  see  under 
that  chair  for  sports  in  winter.  All  other 
clothes,  after  you  have  arranged  your  room, 
you  may  repack  in  your  trunk  and  the  trunk 
will  be  put  where  you  can  get  at  it  easily 
when  spring  comes.  No — you  will  have  no 
need  for  dancing  dresses — and  do  put  away 
that  delicate  lingerie.  We  have  often  the 
so  clumsy  blanchiseuses — how  I  must  strive 
to  use  only  English  words.  It  is  not  fair 
that  I  should  not  when  we  require  the  girls 
to  speak  only  French " 

"Speak  only  French !"  Philippa  repeated  in 
real  fright.  "Why  I  couldn't  speak  French 
now  to  save  my  life.  I've  had  only  first 
French  in  the  high  school  at  home  and " 

"My  dear  child  f"  Mademoiselle's  bright 
face  was  quite  clouded  in  her  sympathy  for 
Philippa's  distress.  "You  must  not  be  so 
frightened.  We  help  you  always.  You  can 
always  ask  for  words.  If  you  know  to  say, 
'Qu'est-ce-que  c'est — ?'  which  means,  'What 
is — ' — the  French  word  that  you  do  not  know, 

6 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

for  example,  you  are  perfectly  safe  among  the 
dragons — especially  when  the  dragons  are  my 
mother  and  myself.  We  do  not,  of  course, 
expect  the  impossible.  But  we  do  want  the 
conscientious  effort.  And  there  is  truly  no 
other  way  to  learn  to  speak  a  language  but  to 
have  to  speak  it.  And  of  what  use  is  it  to  read 
the  words  of  a  beautiful  language  if  you  can- 
not speak  it?  And  now  I  go.  It  is  perhaps 
the  last  time  that  I  can  speak  to  you  like 
this." 

"Why?"  Philippa  was  alarmed.  "What  is 
going  to  happen?" 

Mademoiselle  laughed  softly. 

"O,  ma  petite,  what  an  intense  little  soul 
it  is.  I  mean  only  that  I  must  consider  the 
other  girls.  I  have  to  remember  my  dignity. 
I  am  not  so  immense,  you  know,  and  I  have 
the  pink  cheeks,  and  my  eyes  are  not  yet  dull 
like  those  of  Miss  Shelby.  And — I  am  some- 
times in  the  heart  quite  like  the  girls."  She 
stopped  and  eyed  Philippa  a  little  pathetically. 
"So  I  must  put  up  something  that  is  a  barrier 
so  they  will  feel  that  I  am  not  a  human  being 
but,  instead,  a  teacher.  I  must  remember 
my  dignity.  And  if  I  am  like  a  friend  to  you 
they  will  be  jealous." 

2  7 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"What  ?"  Many  things  seemed  strange  to 
Philippa  to-day.  "Why  should  they?" 

Mademoiselle  eyed  her  with  an  expression 
of  ancient  wisdom  that  went  oddly  with  her 
cunning  soubrette  face. 

"But  if  school  girls — boarding-school  girls 
— do  not  fear  and  dislike  their  teacher  they 
must  always  have  a  sentimental  love  for  her. 
So  I  cannot  be  friendly  with  one  more  than 
another.  Else  they  weep  or  they  get  angry. 
They  would  not  be  pleasant  for  you.  And 
my  mother  and  I  wish  well  to  you."  Then, 
seeing  Philippa's  serious  face,  she  laughed 
mischievously.  "Do  not  look  so  sad,  my  little 
Philippa.  It  will  not  always  be  so — not  every 
minute  of  my  life.  There  will  be  times  when 
you  and  I  can  have  some  friendliness.  But 
you  will  remember,  n'est  ce  pas,  to  treat  me 
with  exalted  respect  in  public?  Now  I  go." 

"But  why  must  you  go  now?" 

"It  is,  because,  if  I  do  not,  my  mother  will 
tire  herself  to  death.  She  is  a  saint,  my 
mother."  She  spoke  with  a  sudden  passion- 
ate devotion.  "And  I  am  ashamed  that  I 
have  so  many  errors  of  the  flesh.  She  would 
take  only  one  bon-bon.  And  want  only  one. 
And  forget  it.  No,  no,  truly  no  more  for  me. 

8 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

I  must  mortify  the  flesh."  She  threw  back  a 
sparkling  smile  and  left  the  room. 

Philippa  went  on  with  her  work.  It  was 
simple  enough  now  that  she  knew  exactly 
what  to  do.  Soon  all  was  in  order.  She  sat 
at  ease  and  gazed  around. 

Perhaps  it  was  because  there  was  so  little 
in  it  that  it  seemed  to  Philippa  the  most  ex- 
quisitely clean  room  she  had  ever  seen.  The 
woodwork  was  enameled  white;  the  single 
bedstead  was  white;  the  smoothly  drawn 
sheets  and  counterpane  the  perfection  of 
laundering  and  faintly  redolent  of  orris;  the 
little  old-fashioned  bureau  and  washstand 
white  with  the  plainest — and  glossiest — of 
white  linen  hemstitched  covers.  The  walls 
were  painted  a  soft  gray  and  the  floor  gray 
also.  There  was  a  study  table  with  a  plain 
dark  green  cover  and  a  shining  old  "student- 
lamp"  upon  it.  There  were  curtains  of  plain 
clear  white  muslin.  Beyond  that,  except  for 
Philippa's  toilet  things  and  a  few  other  trifles, 
nothing. 

Leisure  and  the  departure  of  Mademoiselle 
began  to  put  a  different  aspect  on  affairs. 
The  autumn  chill  was  in  the  old  red  brick 
house  which  it  had  seemed  absurd  to  call  the 

9 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"Chateau"  until  she  knew  what  "Chateau  de 
Liberte"  meant  and  that  her  own  mother  had 
originated  the  name  when  she  had  been 
Madame's  pupil  the  first  year  of  the  school's 
existence.  Now  that  she  was  quiet  herself 
she  began  to  hear  a  noise  and  commotion  in 
the  halls  that  had  seemed  monastically  quiet 
an  hour  ago.  There  were  bumping  sounds 
of  men  dragging  luggage  about,  and  voices. 
But  they  were  strange  voices.  All  at  once 
it  came  to  her  that  nobody  in  the  big  house  was 
concerned  with  her  or  needed  her.  The 
knowledge  brought  a  curious  shock  with  it. 
Philippa  had  rarely  been  away  from  home 
before  and  then  either  with  members  of  her 
family  or  to  visit  old  friends  or  relatives. 
She  had  often  imagined  herself  going  off  to 
boarding  school,  and  had  always  expected  to 
have  four  years  away  from  home  at  college. 
But  her  imagination  had  been  alive  with  the 
fun  detailed  in  books,  so  many  girls  under 
one  roof  like  a  big  perpetual  house  party — 
the  larks  they  would  have — the  midnight 
spreads — the  new  friendships.  None  of  the 
imagined  scenes  had  begun  like  this.  The 
thought  of  her  own  warm  sunny  room  at 
home  flashed  on  her,  filled  with  cheerful  color 

10 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

and  with  a  hundred  objects,  each  one  of  which 
had  meant  a  part  of  her  life,  someone  who 
had  thought  lovingly  of  her.  Into  the  pic- 
ture of  that  room  came  her  mother — although 
her  mother  had  only  just  started  on  her  way 
home.  Her  mother  was  calling  her — her  sis- 
ter Doreen  came 

"I  am  not  the  homesick  kind,"  Philippa  said 
out  loud,  and  firmly.  The  little  traveling 
clock  her  mother  had  just  bought  for  her 
struck  ten. 

"Plenty  of  time  for  a  walk  before  lunch," 
Philippa  decided,  and  resolutely  got  up. 
"There's  an  interesting  walk  Muzz  and  I 
didn't  have  time  to  take  to  a  place  she  started 
to  tell  me  something  or  other  about." 

When  she  had  brushed  out  her  bobbed 
hair  and  put  on  the  coat  to  her  suit  and  the 
duvetyn  hat  that  she  privately  considered  was 
especially  becoming  to  her,  she  brought  out 
the  veil  that  she  had  teased  her  mother — made 
soft  by  prospective  parting — to  buy  for  her. 
When  she  had  fastened  it  on  it  made  her  feel 
queer  and  smothered  and  pushed  her  eye- 
lashes up  uncomfortably,  but  all  that  was  off- 
set by  her  conviction  that  she  looked  at  least 
eighteen  in  it.  That  made  her  feel  able  to 

ii 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

cope  with  the  world  on  equal  terms.  If  she 
should  happen  to  meet  any  girl  on  the  stairs 
or  in  the  hall  she  would  present  a  dignified 
appearance.  They  would  know  she  was  not 
to  be  trifled  with. 

Just  outside  the  door  she  did  meet  one  of 
the  girls,  evidently  just  going  back  to  her 
room  at  the  end  of  Philippa's  own  corridor. 
The  girl,  looking  up  and  catching  her  eye, 
smiled  with  a  kind  of  absent,  lazy  charm. 
Somehow  she  quite  took  Philippa's  breath 
away.  She  looked  Oriental  and  magnificent. 
This  was  not  only  because  of  the  rather  gor- 
geously embroidered  dressing  gown  she  wore. 
It  was  in  her  smooth  skin  which,  colorless  as 
it  was,  seemed  underlaid  with  bloom ;  in  her 
long,  black-fringed  eyes  with  their  extraor- 
dinary large  irises  of  a  soft  leaf-brown;  in 
her  full  and  red  lips ;  in  the  bronze  of  her  hair, 
which  seemed  to  have  flecks  of  gold  under- 
neath the  glaze  like  bronze  luster  ware. 
Philippa  passed  the  moments  after  the  ap- 
parition passed  swiftly  building  her  accus- 
tomed air  castles  about  an  immediate  friend- 
ship with  this  amazing  girl,  a  friendship 
which  should  be,  somehow,  absolutely  dif- 
ferent from  any  she  had  ever  had  before. 

12 


CHAPTER  II 

EMPIRE  STREET  with  its  fringe  of  wil- 
lows mirrored  in  the  water,  skirted  the 
St.  Lawrence.  On  the  far  side  it  held,  as 
well  as  the  Chateau,  the  old-fashioned  homes 
of  the  English  families  of  the  little  French- 
Canadian  village.  At  one  end  was  a  quaint 
little  disused  house  of  pinkish  plaster  with  a 
tree  dropping  away  from  it  like  a  willow 
plume  from  a  middle-aged  lady's  rather  too 
gay  hat.  This  spot  was  important  for  her 
to-day  merely  because  it  marked  the  meeting 
of  Empire  with  a  straggling  street  which 
eventually  led  to  the  place  Mrs.  Gale  had 
told  her  daughter  "something  or  other  about." 
Beyond  the  village  Philippa  could  see  that  it 
was  an  inviting  road ;  the  trees  arched  over  it 
and  the  sunlight  fell  through  the  leaves  into 
gay  little  patterns  on  the  pleasant  shade.  An 
unknown  road  unwinding  before  her  had 
always  been  a  fascination  to  Philippa.  But 
here,  in  a  land  other  than  her  own,  peopled 

13 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

— in  that  part  of  the  Province  of  Quebec  at 
least — chiefly  with  French-Canadian  "habi- 
tants" who  looked  different  from  Americans 
and  who  talked  a  patois  that  even  French 
people  found  hard  to  understand,  a  walk  be- 
came an  adventure. 

"What  would  I  do  if  one  of  them  should 
speak  to  me?"  With  her  heart  beating  fast 
Philippa  followed  the  road. 

Clear  of  the  village,  in  a  few  minutes  she 
heard  the  rippling  of  water.  And  that  seemed 
almost  as  startling  a  thing  to  her  as  though 
she  had  been  Champlain  when  he  first  sailed 
into  the  broad  St.  Lawrence. 

"It  can't  be  the  St.  Lawrence,"  she  thought. 
"That  is  too  broad  and  deep  to  make  that 
sound."  First  a  field  divided  her  from  the 
water;  then  only  a  narrow  strip  of  green 
backed  by  a  splendid  disorderly  tangle  of 
goldenrod  and  purple  asters  and  a  screen  of 
trees  that  shut  out  all  but  an  occasional 
glimpse  of  the  stream ;  soon  the  road  followed 
the  bank  of  the  little  river.  Both  of  its 
shores  were  bordered  with  willows  which 
arched  over  the  water  until  its  surface  was 
all  a  cool  green  flecked  with  golden  ripples 
where  the  sun  struck  through. 

14 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Even  the  occasional  cabane  had  stopped 
and  Philippa  had  the  road  and  the  river  all 
to  herself.  A  little  more  of  the  happy  busy 
stillness,  of  the  murmur  of  the  water,  of  a 
sun-flecked  world  and  Philippa  was  distinctly 
glad  that  she  was  alive  and  had  forgotten 
that  she  was  inclined  to  feel  lonely  and,  more- 
over, that  she  was  fifteen  and  thinking  about 
growing  up  some  day.  The  veil  became  a 
nuisance  and  she  took  it  off ;  her  gloves  were 
uncomfortable  and  she  rolled  them  into  a  ball 
and  stuck  them  in  her  pocket.  She  got  as 
near  as  she  could  to  the  edge  of  the  water, 
launched  leaf-boats,  skipped  stones  and 
splashed  herself  with  water. 

At  last  she  came  to  a  place  where  there  was 
a  tiny  sandy  beach  and  beyond  that  shallow 
ripples  ran  over  a  shelf  of  white  stone.  It  was 
too  tempting;  the  day  had  become  pleasantly 
warm;  there  was  nobody  in  sight.  Forget- 
ting that  she  had  no  towel  to  dry  her  feet  on, 
Philippa  stripped  off  shoes  and  stockings  and 
waded  in.  She  splashed  around  happily,  for- 
getting she  was  alone,  shrieking  with  delight 
when  the  current  ran  so  swiftly  that  she  could 
pretend  to  herself  that  she  was  frightened. 

She  was  looking  about  for  something  with 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

which  to  sound  the  stream  just  beyond  her 
before  venturing  further  when  she  heard  the 
sound  of  voices  coming  along  the  road  she 
had  just  traveled.  At  home,  of  course,  at 
the  Cove  in  Maine,  where  the  Gales  usually 
spent  their  summers,  this  would  not  have  been 
alarming.  But  here,  where  a  road  might  be 
haunted  by  either  the  unknown  habitant  or  the 
stiff  English-Canadian  of  whom  Mademoi- 
selle had  chattered,  it  was  a  really  shock- 
ing complication  to  be  so  caught.  She  hur- 
ried back  to  the  shore,  crouched  down  on  a 
moss-covered  root,  pulled  her  skirt  over  her 
bare  wet  feet,  and  tried  to  make  herself  very 
small  and  inconspicuous. 

The  voices  came  so  near  that  she  could  tell 
they  were  two,  a  feminine  and  a  masculine 
voice.  The  feminine  voice  sounded  young; 
the  masculine — she  couldn't  tell.  They  were 
very  near ;  she  could  see  them  moving  through 
a  tracery  of  green  boughs.  One  moment  she 
thought  they  were  looking  at  her  and  she 
shivered  absurdly.  They  stopped.  She  was 
in  a  real  panic.  But  they  seemed  to  be  debat- 
ing something.  They  were  not  going  to  find 
her  out;  evidently  she  couldn't  be  seen  from 
the  road,  crouched  in  the  shade  as  she  was. 

16 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Emboldened  by  this,  her  curiosity  pricked,  it 
was  fun  to  peer  out  at  these  unconscious 
strangers.  No — it  wasn't  so  much  fun. 
Something  made  Philippa  feel  uncomfortably 
like  a  spy.  The  girl  turned  her  face  upward 
so  the  sun  shone  full  on  it.  It  was  the  girl 
she  had  just  seen  in  the  hall  at  the  Chateau. 
But  the  expression  on  her  face  somehow  made 
Philippa  feel  guilty  to  have  witnessed  it  when 
the  girl  didn't  know  anyone  was  looking.  It 
wasn't  her  father  with  her;  it  was  a  much 
younger  man. 

"And  I  don't  believe  it  can  be  a  relative. 
Oh,  I'm  so  glad  they  are  turning  back,  I  don't 
believe  I  could  have  stood  it  without  letting 

them  know.  Oh !"  As  they  turned  the 

man  bent  his  head  and — Philippa  blushed 
scarlet.  When  they  had  gone  out  of  her  sight 
again  she  managed  to  get  her  feet  dry  and  her 
shoes  and  stockings  on  again. 

"I  must  have  been  mistaken,"  she  thought. 
"He  couldn't  have  kissed  her."  She  felt  ter- 
ribly uncomfortable  for  a  long  time.  "She 
would  never  forgive  me  if  she  knew." 

But  soon  the  road  turned  a  sharp  angle  to 
the  stream  and  led  through  a  grassy  lane  to 
a  great  stone  gate  in  a  low  stone  wall.  The 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

gate  was  open.  As  a  matter,  of  course,  she 
went  through. 

A  driveway  bordered  with  splendid  old 
trees  encircled  a  green  space  that  had  evi- 
dently once  been  a  lawn,  an  approach  to  a 
ruined  old  house  of  some  pretensions  to  dig- 
nity. The  walls,  of  rough  gray  stone,  were 
still  intact,  although  the  wooden  gallery  in 
front  showed  gaps  where  planks  had  fallen 
and  the  sloping  roof  sagged  into  a  great  hole 
near  the  eaves. 

On  fire  with  curiosity,  Philippa  went  all 
around  the  house.  A  long,  rambling  wooden 
addition,  evidently  meant  for  kitchen  and 
servants'  quarters,  extended  almost  to  a  flight 
of  stone  steps  that  led  down  to  a  boat  landing. 
The  half-ruined  stables  and  carriage  house 
showed  that  some  one  must  have  lived  in  the 
old  stone  house  in  a  good  deal  of  state, 
although  it  was  a  severely  undecorated  oblong 
and  on  a  rather  small  scale.  The  dignity  and 
beauty  of  the  location,  its  desertion,  all  stimu- 
lated her  easily  stirred  imagination. 

Sitting  for  a  moment  in  a  delicious  haze  of 
surmises  and  pictures,  on  a  sound  step  of 
the  flight  that  had  led  up  to  the  gallery,  she 
caught  sight  of  a  tiny  steeple  that  peeped 

18 


THE  EXPRESSION   ON    HER  FACE   SOMEHOW    MADE  PHILIPPA  FEEL 

GUILTY  TO  HAVE  WITNESSED  IT  WHEN  THE  GIRL  DIDN'T 

KNOW   ANYONE   WAS    LOOKING 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

through  the  clustered  trees  to  the  right  of 
the  driveway.  Jumping  up  she  made  her  way 
through  bushes  and  young  saplings  that  had 
sprung  up  all  over  what  had  evidently  once 
been  a  field.  As  she  went  on  she  fancied  she 
heard  steps  and  paused,  a  little  frightened. 
It  was  a  rather  remote  spot  for  a  solitary  girl 
to  encounter  a  stranger  in.  But  when  she 
finally  came  upon  what  had  evidently  once 
been  a  little  church,  she  saw  no  one  there. 

"I'm  getting  scary,"  she  told  herself. 
"Why  should  I  mind  even  if  I  meet  a  man. 
They're  not  going  to  eat  me  up  even  if 
French-Canadians  do  talk  in  such  a  queer 
violent  manner." 

The  tiny  chapel,  too,  was  of  rough  gray 
stone. 

"It  must  have  been  built  at  the  same  time," 
thought  Philippa,  quite  pluming  herself  on  her 
wisdom.  The  windows  were  too  high  up  for 
her  to  see  through  even  if  they  had  not  had 
boards  nailed  across  them.  She  tried  the 
door,  but  found  it  locked.  She  was  so  dis- 
appointed that  she  shook  the  door  viciously. 

The  knob  turned  in  her  hands  and  the  door 
swung  open.  In  the  doorway,  smiling  down 
upon  her,  was  a  tall  young  man  whose  blue 

19 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

eyes,  rather  small  features  and  fair  hair  bore 
unmistakably  the  English  stamp.  Moreover, 
to  make  him  still  more  picturesque,  he  wore 
rough  tweed  knickers  and  belted  Norfolk 
coat  and  his  left  arm  was  in  a  black  silk 
sling. 

"Did  you  really  want  to  get  into  the  church, 
now  ?"  he  asked,  still  smiling. 

There  was  something  so  entirely  reassuring 
about  him  that  Philippa  said,  with  entire 
frankness. 

"Yes,  I  did.  I  didn't  know  there  was  any- 
thing like  that  here,  you  see,  and  I  was  won- 
dering— can  you  tell  me  about  it?" 

She  made  a  very  engaging  picture  as  she 
looked  up  at  the  young  man,  her  eyes  bright 
with  interest  and  soft  with  all  the  romances 
she  had  been  weaving  for  herself  about  the 
old  house  and  the  chapel.  Her  brown  hair 
fluffed  out  from  under  the  brown  hat  that  was 
just  the  shade  of  the  darkest  tones  of  her 
hair  and  caught  up  with  a  jeweled  quill  of  the 
copper  tones  with  which  her  hair  was  shot. 
Her  trim  coat  suit  and  her  smart  russet  shoes 
proclaimed  her — although  the  young  man 
would  have  been  puzzled  to  know  why — an 
American. 

20 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"Don't  you  have  anything  like  this  in  the 
States  ?"  he  asked  a  little  teasingly. 

"Why,  how  did  you  know  I  came  from  the 
United  States?  Oh — perhaps  Madame  told 
you." 

A  curious  expression  came  over  his  good- 
looking  face. 

"Madame  d' Albert  is  not  in  the  habit  of 
confiding  in  me,"  he  said  a  little  stiffly.  "But 
one  does  not  need  to  be  told  some  things. 
Would  you  like  to  come  in  ?  There's  nothing 
much  to  see,  I'm  afraid,  but  ruin.  It  hasn't 
been  used  for  years.  In  the  early  days  all 
the  English  people  in  Lanoraie  attended  serv- 
ices here  held  by  the  chaplain  of  the  Cuth- 
berts — the  Seigneurs." 

"Oh,  what  fun !"  said  Philippa.  "The  pri- 
vate chapel  of  a  Seigneur ;  it's  the  first  really 
old  thing  I  ever  saw  except  in  Quebec.  We 
make  a  great  fuss  in  our  country  over  Faneuil 
Hall  and  Independence  Hall,  and  I  suppose 
they're  new  compared  with  this.  But  I  should 
think  the  one  who's  Seigneur  now  would  have 
it  repaired.  I'd  be  awfully  vain  if  I  had  a 
chapel  like  that  in  my  family.  It's  nicer  than 
having  a  greenhouse  or  a  breakfast  room." 

"There  isn't  any  'Seigneur'  any  more." 

21 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"But  there  are  members  of  the  family  left, 
for  my  mother  told  me  so.  She  used  to  be 
here  years  ago  at  the  school,  you  know. 
That's  why  she  brought  me  here  to  see  La- 
noraie.  And  then  I  decided  to  stay." 

"So  you're  one  of  the  girls  at  the  Cha- 
teau," he  said,  smiling  very  pleasantly.  "But 
perhaps  your  mother  didn't  tell  you  that  the 
modest  revenues  of  the  first  Cuthbert  have 
shrunk  to  almost  nothing.  And  the  present 
'Seigneur'  has  things  to  do  with  the  remnant 
rather  than  to  repair  ancient  chapels.  Still 
— perhaps  he  still  does  come  here  now  and 
then  just  to  remind  himself  that  there's  still 
some  reason  for  him  to  hold  up  his  head  even 

if Suppose  you  come  inside  and  look. 

There  are  memorial  tablets  and  a  rather  in- 
teresting old  pulpit.  Chaps  who  know  tell 
me  it's  jolly  well  worth  looking  at.  It  was 
sent  over  from  England." 

So  Philippa  stepped  inside  the  tiny  chapel 
and,  as  well  as  she  could  for  fallen  plaster, 
tried  to  reconstruct  for  herself  the  scene 
when  a  group  of  English  aristocrats  and  their 
followers  gathered  in  this  little  sanctuary  in 
the  wilderness  to  worship.  And,  somehow, 
the  Lord  of  the  Manor  of  those  days  had 

22 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

much  the  same  negligent  manner  as  the  young 
man  who  looked  about  at  the  stained  memo- 
rial tablets,  a  little  moodily,  at  her  side. 

The  pulpit  was,  in  truth,  "jolly  well  worth 
looking  at,"  Philippa  thought,  loving  to  use 
the  phrase  which,  previously,  she  had  known 
only  in  books  about  English  life.  It  was  a 
corkscrew  affair,  of  heavily  carved  wood,  so 
black  with  age  that  she  couldn't  tell  at  all  of 
what  wood  it  had  been  made.  It  was  impos- 
sible not  to  think  of  the  succession  of  clergy- 
men who  had  filled  the  pulpit  and  of  the  con- 
gregations who  listened,  the  ladies  and  gentle- 
men in  picturesque  silks  and  velvets  imported 
from  England,  the  retainers  in  somber 
fustian. 

When  they  were  outside  Philippa  glanced 
rather  timidly  up  at  the  young  man.  He  was 
older  than  she  had  thought,  quite  distinctly 
mature  to  her  eyes,  and  a  sudden  embarrass- 
ment at  the  thought  that  she  had  been  talking 
to  a  strange  man  to  whom  she  had  not  been 
introduced,  made  her  a  little  awkward.  In- 
side the  chapel  that  had  not  seemed  to  mat- 
ter ;  he  had  appeared  almost  as  boyish  as  her 
brother  Bayard,  or  even  Jeff  Randolph.  He 
made  no  motion  toward  accompanying  her 

3  23 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

further  but,  with  a  "good  morning,"  took  off 
his  hat  somewhat  playfully,  as  one  would  to 
a  child,  and  made  his  way  toward  the  house. 

If  this  had  been  even  a  year  ago  Philippa 
would  not  have  given  this  chance  encounter 
another  thought;  this  English-looking  young 
man,  evidently  older  than  Mademoiselle,  was 
clearly  not  her  concern.  But  now,  on  the 
road  back,  she  couldn't  help  thinking  about 
him,  wondering  what  he  had  thought  of  her 
— whether  she  seemed  just  a  little  girl  to  him 
or  whether  he  thought,  perhaps,  that  she  was 
seventeen  or  eighteen  instead  of  fifteen. 

"Grown-up  girls,  even  women,  wear  their 
hair  bobbed  now,"  she  thought.  "I'm  sorry 
I  had  taken  off  the  veil.  He  smiled  at  me  as 
if  he  thought  I  was  grown  up  when  he  asked 
me  if  I  was  one  of  the  girls  at  the  school. 
He  held  the  door  open  for  me,  too.  And  he 
told  me  things  about  the  chapel  and  all.  But 
I  didn't  like  the  way  he  teased  me  about  com- 
ing from  'the  States/  Of  course,  I  suppose 
I  can't  expect  at  first  to  understand  young 
men  as  well  as  just  boys.  If  it  were  Jeff, 
now,  I'd  know  exactly  what  he  was  thinking." 


24 


CHAPTER  III 

PHILIPPA  went  to  lunch  with  her  heart 
beating  faster  than  usual.  The  dining 
room  was  already  familiar  to  her.  It  was  a 
large  room,  with  bare  polished  floor  and  walls 
a  freshly  painted  warm  tan.  There  were  two 
long  tables  at  right  angles  to  each  other,  of 
which  only  the  one  at  which  Philippa  sat  was 
in  use.  Against  the  wall  in  front  of  her  was 
a  long  serviceable  buffet  in  walnut  almost 
black  with  age;  a  serving  table  against  an- 
other wall  and  the  necessary  chairs  and  tray- 
rests  completed  the  furniture.  It  was  a  strictly 
utilitarian  scene,  so  impersonal  that  it  made 
Philippa  feel  lonesome.  Waiting  for  the 
signal  to  rise,  Philippa  fell  into  a  deep  well 
of  isolation.  In  the  effort  to  escape  from  this 
she  directed  her  eyes  toward  the  other  side  of 
the  table. 

Philippa  was  looking  forward  to  meeting 
the  ones  who  had  already  come,  with  sus- 

25 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

pense.  That  was  a  new  attitude  for  Philippa, 
who  was  sometimes  charged  by  the  exasper- 
ated maids  at  home  with  "cluttering  up  the 
house  so  with  girls  you  couldn't  see  the  fur- 
niture." But  with  home  already  beginning 
to  seem  so  hopelessly  far  away  that  she  had 
had  to  warn  herself  several  times  that  she 
mustn't  think  of  it,  things  were  very  different. 
She  tried  to  laugh  as  she  told  herself  that  she 
must  have  much  the  same  feeling  about  those 
beings  who  were  to  share  this  strange  new 
voyage  with  her,  as  each  inhabitant  of  the 
Ark  probably  experienced  when  he  watched 
the  embarkation  of  the  rest  of  Noah's  selec- 
tion of  house  guests. 

"Suppose  they  don't  like  me !"  She  had  a 
sinking  feeling  at  the  pit  of  her  stomach. 
Possibly  it  was  the  first  time  that  Philippa 
had  ever  bothered  to  ask  herself  that  question. 

Only  four  of  the  fifteen  girls  had  arrived, 
she  found,  not  counting  herself.  With  a 
thrill  of  excitement  she  saw  that  the  unusual 
looking  girl  whom  she  had  unintentionally 
spied  upon  was  almost  directly  opposite.  She 
gave  Philippa  the  same  impression  of  mag- 
nificence as  before,  although  the  dress  she 
wore  was  of  neutral  tone  enlivened  only  by 

26 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

a  little  embroidery  in  dull  metallic  threads. 
Philippa  tried  to  catch  her  eye,  but  she  seemed 
to  see  no  one,  staring  straight  ahead  of  her 
in  a  not  very  pleasant  day-dream. 

"What  would  she  think  if  she  knew  what 
I  had  seen?" 

There  were  two  other  girls,  evidently  elder 
and  younger  sister  at  her  side,  the  older  one 
explaining  everything  to  the  little  girl  with 
the  air  of  the  oldest  inhabitant  instructing  a 
newly  arrived  immigrant.  Two  portly  male 
parents,  one  evidently  belonging  to  the  girl 
Philippa  was  so  much  interested  in,  the  other 
to  the  sisters,  tried  to  monopolize  all  of 
Madame's  time  and  turned  to  Mademoiselle 
Mimi  when  Madame's  ear  was  not  available. 
Philippa  resented  this,  for  she  had  a  question 
a  minute  that  she  wanted  to  put  to  Mademoi- 
selle, and  the  girl,  Effie  White,  on  Philippa's 
left,  seemed  to  her  the  stiffest  girl  she  had 
ever  seen,  apparently  convinced  that  it  was  ac- 
cording to  the  most  exacting  social  code  to  con- 
sume a  substantial  meal  in  unsociable  silence. 

Mademoiselle,  somewhat  to  Philippa's  sur- 
prise, proved  that  she  could  "remember  her 
dignity."  Her  red  lips  seriously  composed, 
her  bright  eyes  void  of  a  flash  of  fun,  her  very 

27 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

hair  with  some  of  the  curl  disciplined  out  of 
it,  Mademoiselle  was  not  a  bad  copy  of  a 
demure  and  desiccated  school-teacher.  In  an 
elderly  fashion  she  contrived  to  make  Philippa 
feel  at  home,  telling  her  the  French  names  of 
the  articles  used  in  the  table  service,  of  the 
food,  and  the  formulas  of  table  courtesies. 
Mademoiselle,  like  her  mother,  ate  with  an 
almost  miraculous  daintiness.  Moreover, 
Philippa's  eyes  opened  wide  to  see  Made- 
moiselle leave  untouched  the  dessert,  which 
was  delicately  delicious,  with  the  greatest  pos- 
sible indifference  while  she  conducted  a  con- 
versation with  a  bluff  and  portly  male  parent 
who  objected  to  the  rather  limited  number  of 
studies  taught.  When,  however,  the  gentleman 
turned  to  his  daughter  and  Mademoiselle  had 
a  moment  to  herself,  she  instantly  turned  to 
her  dessert.  At  the  first  mouthful  her  eyes 
met  Philippa's  and  she  smiled  in  mischievous 
fellowship  in  the  weaknesses  of  the  flesh. 
Philippa  then  knew  that  little  Mademoiselle 
had  not  eliminated  all  of  her  human  qualities 
in  an  hour. 

The  first  moment  she  could  catch  Mademoi- 
selle's attention,  Philippa  questioned  her. 

"Please  tell  me  who  that  girl  is — over  there 
28 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

in  the  good-looking  dress — more  what  a  mar- 
ried woman  would  wear " 

Mademoiselle  smiled  at  Philippa's  descrip- 
tion. 

"That  is  Helen  Odell.  Her  father  is  one 
of  the  richest  men  in  Montreal,  a  banker. 
She  is  the  only  child." 

"But  is  she  going  to  be  here?     At  school?" 

"Yes.  She  was  graduated  last  June  but 
they  decided  to  send  her  back  as  a  sort  of 
special  student." 

"She  doesn't  seem  very  enthusiastic,"  said 
Philippa  shrewdly,  before  she  realized  that 
what  she  said  wasn't  very  polite.  "Oh,  I  beg 
your  pardon."  She  blushed  a  little.  She 
seemed  to  be  often  finding  herself  embar- 
rassed and  self-conscious  here,  something 
that  had  not  often  happened  to  her  before.  "I 
just  meant  that  she  seems — different  some- 
how. I  can't  help  wondering  about  her. 
You  wouldn't  think  of  her  as  a  schoolgirl 
exactly."  She  was  naturally  eaten  up  with 
curiosity  about  the  episode  of  the  morning. 
"But  nobody  has  said  anything  about  her 
being  engaged  or  anything,"  she  thought.  "I 
don't  believe  it  would  be  quite  nice  to  say  any- 
thing about  the  man." 

29 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Mademoiselle  had  turned  and  was  survey- 
ing Philippa  with  interest. 

"Tiens,  you  have  the  ideas,  ma  petite." 
Then  she  thought  a  minute.  "I  hope  you 
won't  be  lonesome  here.", 

"Why.  What  do  you  mean?  I  don't  get 
lonesome  ?" 

"I  wonder  whether  the  girls  who  will  be 
your  schoolmates  will  be  always  companion- 
able. They  are  different  from  you,  these 
English- Canadian  girls  and "  Mademoi- 
selle looked  around  the  table  with  her  funny 
air  of  playful  conspiracy — "different  some- 
times from  me.  It  is  not  because  they  are 
not  of  my  own  race.  We  had  many  friends 
among  English  people  before  we  came  to  this 
country,  maman  and  I.  But  these,  as  I  said, 
are  more  English  than  the  English." 

"But  can't  you  tell  me  about  Miss  Odell?" 

" No,"  Mademoiselle  said  finally,  after 

thought.  "I  think  not.  Best  to  have  you 
find  out  things  for  yourself — or  have  maman 
tell  you.  She  is  the  only  perfect  one,"  she 
finished  with  an  adoring  smile.  "But  now 
you  must  get  acquainted  with  your  neighbor." 

As  Effie  White's  flow  of  conversation 
stopped  after  she  had  asked  Philippa  whether 

30 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

she  lived  in  Washington  where  the  President 
lived,  or  in  New  York,  and  Philippa's  eager 
questions  died  on  her  lips  as  she  encountered 
Effie's  round  eyes,  she  waited  for  another 
moment  when  Mademoiselle  would  have  a 
respite  from  the  educational  ideas  of  the  sub- 
stantial male  parent  of  Effie. 

"Mademoiselle,  do  you  know  who  the 
young  man  was  whom  I  met  to-day  at  an  old 
house  by  a  little  river  and  with  a  funny  old 
church  near  it?" 

"A  young  man,  you  say?" 

("What  pink,  pink  cheeks  Mademoiselle 

has.    I  wonder  how  old  she  is?") "Yes, 

Mademoiselle,  a  rather  fair  young  man  with 
his  arm  in  a  sling.  And  what  is  the  name 
of  the  place?  He  seemed  to  know  all  about 
the  'Seigneurs,'  the  Cuthberts.  And  how 
did  there  come  to  be  'Seigneurs'  at  all  in  this 
country." 

"That  is  the  old  Lanoraie  Manor  House. 
The  first  Cuthbert  built  it  after  he  bought  the 
seigniory  of  'Sieur  Louis  Mort  de  la  Maraye' ; 
the  name  Lanoraie,  you  see,  is  a  corrupt  form 
of  'de  la  Noraye.'  The  officers  in  the  Carignan 
Regiment,  which  was  a  crack  regiment,  veter- 
ans of  many  wars  sent  out  to  New  France  to 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

protect  the  colonists  from  the  Indians,  were 
given,  when  the  regiment  was  disbanded, 
tracts  of  land  along  the  St.  Lawrence  in  re- 
turn for  their  services  and  were  called  the 
'Seigneurs'  of  these  tracts.  Their  tenants  paid 
the  'Seigneurs',  besides  the  stated  sum  of 
money,  certain  other  dues.  It  was,  in  a  small 
way,  the  feudal  system  transplanted  to  the 
New  World." 

"Then,  when  the  English  won  the  French 
and  Indian  War,  it  was  these  'Seigneurs' 
whose  lands  the  English  officers  bought?" 

"Yes,  and  the  English  owners  kept  the  title." 

"How  thrilling!  And  did  their  tenants  owe 
them  feudal  homage,  too?  How  many  inter- 
esting things  you  have  here !" 

"  'Homage'  was  translated  into  'rent/ 
Mademoiselle  said,  laughing.  "Which  is  far 
more  to  the  point  in  these  sordid  days — you 
see,  I  must  always  be  the  teacher.  But — how 
did  it  happen  that  he  spoke  to  you  ?  You  are 
far  from  home  and  in  our  care.  And  it  is 
perhaps  not  always  wise  to " 

"Oh,  I  wouldn't  have  spoken  to  him  if  I 
hadn't  seen  he  was  all  right,"  said  Philippa 
with  what  seemed  like  surprising  nonchalance 
to  Mademoiselle  Mimi.  "I  just  had  to  know 

32 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

all  about  it.  And  it  was  interesting  having 
him  show  me  things!"  ("She  looks  as  if  she 
were  hungry  to  hear  something"),  Philippa 
was  thinking.  ("But  it  did  seem  odd  that  he 
spoke  of  Madame  as  if  she  didn't  like  him.  I 
can't  imagine  Madame  not  liking  anybody  as 
attractive  as  he  seemed.") 

Mademoiselle  was  no  longer  pink ;  she  was 
pale.  The  loss  of  her  color  did  something  to 
her  face 

"I  wonder  if  perhaps  she  doesn't  feel  as 
happy  sometimes  as  she  seems,"  Philippa 
thought. 

Mademoiselle  did  not  speak  again  for  some 
moments. 

"You  made  no  mistake,  my  little  Phileepa ; 
it  was  quite  safe  for  you  to  talk  to  that  gentle- 
man. It  was,  I  am  sure,  Mr.  Ross  Cuthbert, 
who  is  the  last  of  his  name.  He  is  still  called 
the  'Seigneur'  by  the  French-Canadians  be- 
cause he  owns  some  small  part  of  the  land 
that  belonged  to  his  ancestors,  and  they  pay 
him  the  rent.  He  has  not  been  home  long  from 

the  war.  But "  She  looked  irresolutely 

toward  where  her  mother  sat  at  the  head  of 
the  table.  "I  think  there  is  no  reason  why 
you  should  speak  to  my  mother  about  this 

33 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

meeting.  It  is  not  that  she  would  blame  you. 
But  it  is  that  she  does  not  completely  like  that 
young  man.  To  speak  of  him  might  give  her 
pain.  That  is  what  I  think  most  of — not  to 
give  my  mother  pain." 

With  an  effort  that  was  evident  to  Phil- 
ippa's  sharp  eyes,  she  managed  a  pale  little 
smile.  But  she  dismayed  Philippa  by 
adding : 

"At  dinner  this  evening  we  will  begin  to 
speak  French  at  the  table." 


CHAPTER  IV 

ALL  that  afternoon  and  the  next  day  the 
^jl  girls  were  arriving.  Kind  as  Madame  and 
Mademoiselle  were,  they  could  not,  of  course, 
find  much  time  to  give  Philippa.  In  the  stir 
and  commotion,  in  fact,  Philippa  often  felt  so 
much  in  the  way  that  she  assumed  a  more  or 
less  apologetic  air  and  finally  crept  back  to 
her  own  room. 

She  had  looked  forward  with  eagerness  to 
the  arrival  of  the  girls  who  were  to  be  her 
associates  for  almost  a  year ;  her  head,  as  has 
been  said,  was  full  of  stories  of  boarding- 
school  pranks,  of  "midnight  spreads,"  of  deli- 
cious cozy  moments  of  confidences  over  fudge 
or  a  box  of  candy  from  home  or  olives  har- 
pooned by  a  hatpin,  of  wistful  longing  for  the 
immediate  friendship  of  these  unknown  girls 
— being  unknown,  they  had  a  different  radi- 
ance from  the  friends  of  many  years.  She 
had  confidently  expected  that,  after  the  way 

35 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

things  would  have  happened  at  home,  chance 
meetings  in  the  hall,  the  loan  of  a  curling  iron 
or  tooth  paste,  would  lead  to  fast  friendships. 

But  nothing  of  the  sort  happened.  Early  in 
the  afternoon  she  was  coming  out  of  her 
room  when  she  heard  through  a  half-closed 
door  a  newly  arrived  girl,  Margaret  Dixon, 
wondering  helplessly  when  the  man  would 
bring  her  trunk  up.  As  Philippa  would  have 
done  in  such  a  case  at  home,  she  knocked  at 
the  door.  When  the  door  was  opened  a  rather 
clumsily  dressed  girl  stood  there.  She  was 
short  and  stockily  built,  with  two  massive 
braids  of  hair  down  her  back.  She  was  rather 
plain-looking  and  even  unattractive,  yet  she 
stared  at  Philippa  in  apparently  haughty  sur- 
prise that  she  should  have  come  to  her  room. 
Philippa  felt  her  face  growing  hot,  but  she 
would  not  let  her  embarrassment  prevent  her 
from  doing  what  she  had  intended  to  do. 

"I  heard  you  asking  about  your  trunk,"  she 
said,  in  a  tone  that,  in  spite  of  her  efforts, 
grew  icier  as  she  proceeded;  the  blank  stare 
on  the  girl's  face  was  distinctly  chilling  to 
ardor.  "My  room  is  at  the  back  of  the  house, 
and  I  heard  a  wagon  drive  up  a  minute  ago. 
And  some  one — I  think  it  was  Mademoiselle — 

36 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

spoke  your  name.  I'm  quite  sure  there  were 
trunks  on  the  wagon.  So  I  suppose  yours  will 
be  brought  up  soon." 

"Oh,"  said  the  girl,  still  staring. 

"I — I  thought  you  would  be  interested  to 
know." 

"Oh,"  said  the  girl  again.  Then,  after  a 
moment  of  apparent  indecision,  "Thank 
you." 


CHAPTER  V 

"  HHHE  ill-bred  stupid  thing!"  Philippa 
L  stormed  to  herself.  She  stood  with  her 
back  against  the  closed  door  as  if  to  keep  a 
houseful  of  enemies  out  from  the  one  place  she 
could  call  her  own.  "I'd  just  like  to  let  her 
know  what  the  girls  at  home  would  think  of 
her.  She'd  be  left  alone  good  and  plenty. 
Why,  if  any  one  had  taken  the  trouble  to  be 
as  nice  to  me  as  I  was  to  her — I  thought  she'd 
like  to  know  her  trunk  had  come — I'd  be  so 
grateful.  And  I'd  have  manners  enough  to 
show  it,  too,  instead  of  acting  as  if  somebody 
was  trying  to  push  in  where  she  were  not 
wanted." 

The  refuge  from  what  she  felt  were  either 
curious  eyes  or  unfriendly  or — perhaps  worse 
than  either — indifferent  eyes  all  about  her 
was  only  momentarily  soothing.  She  lighted 
her  lamp,  took  up  a  book  that  she  had  thought 
she  wanted  to  read,  put  on  her  dressing  gown 

38 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

and  slippers  and  sat  down  for  what  ought  to 
have  been  a  peaceful  evening.  As  she  looked 
about  on  the  cool  gray  walls  of  her  room  she 
shivered.  They  seemed  a  kind  of  visible 
loneliness  closing  in  on  her.  There  was  a 
stubborn  strength  in  Philippa,  so  she  fought 
against  depression.  Her  mother  had  warned 
her  that  she  might  be  homesick  and  she  had 
laughed  at  the  idea.  Now  her  pride  came  to 
her  aid. 

"It's  not  that — that  I'm  lonesome,"  she 
assured  herself,  straining  her  ears  all  the  time 
to  hear  sounds  that  would  tell  her  that  other 
people  were  talking  and  laughing  together 
quite  as  she  did  with  the  girls  at  home.  But 
when  she  heard  little  bursts  of  talk  and  laugh- 
ter she  was  hurt  all  the  more. 

She  found  all  at  once  that  her  eyes  were 
wet. 

"This  won't  do!"  Philippa  spoke  fiercely, 
starting  up.  At  home  Philippa  was  noted  for 
being  always  ecstatically  up  or  violently  down. 
She  had  learned,  when  she  felt  one  of  her 
"downs"  coming  on,  that  it  was  fatal  to  think 
about  herself,  that  the  only  thing  to  do  was 
immediately  to  throw  herself  wholeheartedly 
into  some  outside  interest. 

4  39 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"But  there  isn't  anything  interesting  here 
to  do — and — and  I  don't  know  anybody  who 
cares  a  thing  for  me  except  Madame  and 
Mademoiselle,  and  the  last  time  I  spoke  to 
Madame  I  know  I  bothered  her.  And — and 

Mother's   gone "      She   was   struggling 

hard  with  the  flood  of  tears  that  were  rising 
just  back  of  her  eyeballs.  "And — I'm  blest 
if  I  try  the  'do-something-f  or-others'  line  here 
or  speak  to  one  of  those  girls  without  an  in- 
troduction— or  even  speak  first  at  all,  if  that's 
the  way  they  are  going  to  act.  Oh,  why  did  I 
decide  to  stay  here!  It  was  just  because  I 
imagined  all  sorts  of  things  that  are  never 
going  to  be.  It's  going  to  be  awful!" 

By  this  time  Philippa  was  staring  straight 
ahead  of  her,  making  a  terrible  face  to  push 
back  the  tears,  even  gripping  her  hands  until 
the  nails  dug  into  the  soft  palms.  All  around 
her  was  a  dark,  hopeless  emptiness.  There 
never  would  be  anything  else.  There  never 
could  be.  She  could  not  picture  ever  going 
home  again.  "I'd  hate  to  write  to  Mother  that 
I  can't  stay.  I'd  be  ashamed  to.  So  I'll  have 
to  stay.  But  I  can't  stay — I  can't  help  it — 

I  can't  wait  to  write.     I'll  wire No,  I 

must  not  be  such  a  fool" 

40 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

It  did  seem  as  if  she  were  the  only  living 
being  in  that  house  that  was  not  friendly  with 
somebody.  Even  clumsy,  red-armed  An- 
gelique,  who  did  the  coarsest  and  roughest 
work  in  the  house,  was  having  a  boisterous 
conversation  with  her  cousin,  the  carter. 
Philippa  resolutely  opened  the  book  and  was 
really  getting  so  interested  in  it  that  she  had 
forgotten  for  the  moment  where  she  was 
when  her  eyes  fell  on  the  little  desk  calendar 
her  mother  had  remembered  to  provide. 

"Friday  evening!"  All  at  once  the  tears 
welled  to  her  eyes — to  think  of  what  this 
Friday  evening  would  have  been  at  home — 
Anne  'n'  Virginia  and  herself  in  the  living 
room  making  fudge — a  wood  fire  if  it  was 
cold  enough  to  make  it  comfortable — all  the 
things  they  would  have  to  talk  about — what 
teachers  they  would  have — probably  she'd 
hear  that  they  had  drawn  Miss  Morton  in 
English — wrho  had  gone  out  for  basketball — 
dramatics — all  the  wonderfulness  of  the  first 
Friday  evening  after  school  had  begun — the 
darling  living  room  at  home  with  Father  'n' 
Mother  looking  in  on  them — so  glad  they 
were  happy " 

"I'm  not  homesick.     I'm  not  the  homesick 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

kind,"  she  whispered  to  herself,  biting  her 
lips  fiercely.  "My  crazy  imagination  making 
it  all  seem  so  romantic  and  exciting — a  French 
school — winter  sports — fun  with  the  girls — 
'Fun!'  "  she  repeated  fiercely.  "As  if  anyone 
could  have  any  fun  with  these  girls.  Half  the 
time  they  stare  at  me  like  dumb-bells  at  the 
simplest  things  I  say.  They  haven't  a  par- 
ticle of  imagination.  Madame  is  little  and 
cunning  with  her  little  quick  ways  of  moving 
her  head  like  a  bird — and  Mademoiselle  is 
dear — it  seemed  like  a  story.  But  Madame's 
so  high  up  above  you,  somehow  she  can't  care 

— not  the  way  Mother But,  of  course, 

nobody  could  care  the  way  Mother  would — 

Oh,  what  a  fool  I  was "  Her  chin  was 

quivering  now  and  the  tears  raining  down. 
"Nobody  wants  me  with  them — that  girl 
across  the  hall  would  rather  not  have  me 
where  she  is — /  don't  make  any  difference  to 
a  single  soul  in  this  house " 

She  was  crying  piteously  now,  shaken  with 
great  sobs. 

"I  don't  want  to  cry — I  won't !"  As  if  she 
felt  herself  drowning  her  hands  unconsciously 
groped  in  the  air  for  the  straw  that  would 
hold  her  up.  "I'll  show  that  I've  cried  to- 

42 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

morrow  and  that  girl  will  know."  The 
fierce  dislike  that  the  thought  conjured  up 
helped  her  where  nothing  else  could.  She 
stopped  weeping  and  mopped  her  eyes — even 
turned  to  the  book.  Then  her  eyes  fell  on  the 
little  etching  that  her  mother  had  bought  for 
her  in  Montreal  because  it  made  them  both 
think  of  their  own  little  bit  of  the  brook  at 
home,  the  sheltering  slope  of  their  own  roof. 
That  brought  her  down  helplessly.  There 
was  no  dear  comforting  home  to  go  to — noth- 
ing. Throwing  herself  on  the  bed  and  half 
smothering  herself  with  the  pillow  over  her 
head  so  that  the  girl  across  the  hall  wouldn't 
hear,  she  sobbed  and  raged  herself  into  blind, 
aching,  shaking  misery 

There  came  a  tap  at  the  door.  She 
wouldn't  answer.  Perhaps  she  couldn't. 
The  door  opened.  The  light  step  warned 
her  that  it  was  Madame.  She  tried  to  sit 
up,  to  push  the  wet  hair  out  of  her  eyes. 
But  she  fell  back,  sobbing  with  fresh 
violence. 

"Oh,  cherie,  cherie"  said  Madam's  voice, 
soft  and  human  now — almost  like  Mother's. 
"I  know  you  cannot  help  to  cry.  'All  hope 
gone,'  you  say.  Even  though  you  will  know 

43 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

in  a  little  that  is  not  so  you  cannot  see  it  now. 
So  now  weep  it  all  away.  And  cry  out. 
When  you  are  young  it  does  not  hurt  to  weep 
— not  much.  But  bend,  dear  child,  with  the 
storm.  Do  not  contend  with  it.  Do  not  be 
angry  and  hate  others.  It  is  that  that  hurts. 
And  I  will  sit  here  and  be  with  you  to  the 
end  of  the  storm 

She  was  stroking  the  hot  head  all  the 
time,  and,  quite  as  if  her  fingers  had  hyp- 
notic power,  the  shaking  was  ceasing. 
Blindly  Philippa  put  out  a  hand  and  touched 
hers. 

"So,"  said  the  soft  voice,  "the  storm  passes 
— another  storm." 

Philippa  held  the  hand  close  to  her  cheek. 

"But,  Madame,"  she  said  at  last,  without 
daring  to  look  up  but  able  to  talk  almost 
calmly,  "I  don't  believe  I  can  stay.  You 
understand.  You  know  it  isn't " 

Madame  knew  that  the  tears  would  break 
through  again  if  she  didn't  find  the  right 
thing  to  say.  She  went  on  stroking  the 
flushed  cheek  for  a  time  in  silence,  her  mouth 
making  a  little  soft  round  of  perplexity. 

"If  it  is  too  hard  you  must  not  stay,"  she 
said  at  last  with  soothing  common  sense. 

44 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

'This  is  in  truth  the  Chateau  de  Liberte,  as 
your  own  mother  named  it.  If  you  stay  it 
must  be  because  you  yourself  want  to  taste 
what  life  here  can  offer  you.  The  mail,  the 
telegraph,  the  railroad  are  at  your  service. 
If  you  have  not  enough  money  in  your  pocket 
to  make  the  trip  your  mother  has  placed  more 
in  my  care.  One  does  not  turn  one's  fif- 
teen-year-old daughter  adrift  without  moor- 
ing a  liferaft  safe  at  hand."  She  smiled 
a  little  to  herself  as  she  went  on  stroking 
the  hair  back  from  the  babishly  round 
cheek. 

"The  door,  then,  is  open  for  your  flight. 
But "  Her  tone  altered  to  a  cool  reason- 
ableness, kind  but  dispassionate.  "It  is,  per- 
haps, a  confession  of  too  great  impulsiveness 
to  act  instantly  on  an  emotion.  Three  days 
ago — this  morning  even — you  and  your 
mother  both  thought  you  had  made  a  wise 
decision.  It  is  possible  that  nothing  has 
changed  since  then  but  your  own  feeling.  If 
I  were  you — ma  petite  I  speak  to  you  as  I 
wish  there  had  been  some  friend  to  speak  to 
myself  once.  Why  not  wait  to  see  what  the 
next  days  may  bring?  Then,  having  seen, 
act,  but  with  a  cool  head.  If  that  is  too  much 

45 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

to  expect — but  I  do  not  think  it  is — the  latch- 
string  of  the  Chateau  de  Liberte  is  in  as  well 
as  out.  Mimi  and  I  will  help  you  on  your 
way." 

Soothed  and  calmed,  Philippa  could  send 
Madame  a  surprisingly  clear  glance,  although 
it  was  from  her  poor  swollen  eyes. 

"Thank  you,  Madame,  I  think  I  can 
wait." 

"I,  too,  will  wait  now  until  you  raise  your 
face  and  smile.  Your  smile — so  bright  and 
sweet  like  that  of  your  mother  in  a  time  hard 
for  me — does  good  to  me  and  Mimi." 

It  was  not  long  after  Madame's  light  step 
had  died  away  before  the  bell  that  meant  "all 
lights  out"  rang.  It  found  Philippa  in  a 
comfortably  drowsy  state.  But  questions 
floated  through  her  mind.  Madame  had  sug- 
gested that  while  she  waited  to  decide,  and 
since  there  was  no  school  until  Monday,  she 
go  to  see  an  old  friend  of  her  mother's,  Mrs. 
Cherton.  She  wondered  if  that  would  be  in- 
teresting. 

"I  wonder  if  I  will  stay — such  good  times 
at  home — I  wonder — what  was  the  funny  way 
Madame  said  it? — I  wonder  if  the  latch- 
string  is  really  in?  Are  there  times  when 

46 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

you  can't  do  things  even  if  you  know  you  can  ? 
That  sounds  silly — how  about  her — that 
Helen  Odell?  Is  she  staying  here  because 
she  wants  to? — I  wonder  how  much  liberty 
we  have  anyway — any  of  us — I  wonder  if 
Mademoiselle? " 


CHAPTER  VI 

7T  was  unfortunate  that  the  next  morning  the 
rain  poured  in  torrents.  At  breakfast 
Philippa  felt  Madame's  inquiring  eyes  upon 
her. 

"I  suppose  she's  wondering  whether  I'm 
going  have  a  relapse,"  she  thought.  "It  is  odd 
how  she  seems  to  feel  everything,  and  yet  is 
so  far  away  up  above  us.  It's  just  as  if  she 
were  a  wireless  station.  Well,  I'll  just  let  her 
know  I'm  going  to  have  a  beautiful  time." 
And  before  her  courage  failed  she  launched 
two  laborious  French  sentences  at  Madame: 

"J'aime  marcher  dans  la  pluie,  Madame. 
Je  vais  aller  chez  Madame  Cherton." 

And  Madame's  mouth  made  a  soft  O  of 
reassurance. 

When  Philippa  reached  her  destination,  the 
little  old  gray  stone  house  in  the  pelting  rain 
was  silent  and  withdrawn  to  the  point  of 
isolation.  The  tiniest  bit  of  lawn  fenced  in 

48 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

by  a  very  high  box  hedge  soaked  in  the  wet. 
It  was  a  flat,  gloomy  front  that  presented  it- 
self; green  window  shades  exactly  drawn 
just  below  the  casing  of  the  top  panes;  below 
that  several  layers,  apparently  of  limp  white 
curtain  material,  shrouded  the  window. 
Philippa  went  up  the  two  steps  of  the  forbid- 
ding gray  stone  porch  with  benches  on  the 
side  which  nobody  could  conceive  of  anyone's 
ever  wanting  to  sit  on. 

"Oh,  there's  the  knocker  Mother  told  me 
about!"  thought  Philippa,  gleefully.  "I  do 
believe  everything  is  going  to  happen  just  as 
she  said  it  would." 

She  gave  a  rap  with  the  ugly  iron  knocker. 
The  reverberations  of  that  rap  rang  appar- 
ently through  an  empty  house.  A  miniature 
cascade  gushed  from  a  broken  gutter  at  the 
corner  of  the  porch.  The  reverberations  of 
the  sound  died  away. 

"I  don't  believe  there's  anybody  in  the 
house,"  thought  Philippa. 

But  just  at  that  moment  steps  were  heard — 
slow  steps,  but  with  no  hint  of  weakness  or 
indecision.  The  door  opened.  A  gray- 
haired,  black-clad  woman  stood  within  its 
frame.  She  was  very  tall  and,  though  she 

49 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

was  somewhat  stooped,  bowed  as  though  some 
supernatural  force  had  pulled  her  earthward, 
not  her  own  sagging  muscles. 

It  was  odd  that  there  could  be  anything  in 
Mrs.  Cherton's  drooping  black  presence  to 
cheer  Philippa  or  that  her  "So  you're 
Margaret  Fenwick's  daughter — Gale's  the 
name,  eh-h-h?  And  you've  come  to  see 
me?"  should  sound  distinctly  flattering. 
But  it  was  so.  Whether  it  was  the  smile 
at  the  corner  of  the  lips  or  the  eager  hands 
that  drew  her  inside  and  unfastened  her 
dripping  raincoat,  Philippa  understood 
that  she  was  more  than  welcome.  And 
that  thought  warmed  her  through  and 
through. 

With  a  tremulous  eagerness  that  belied  her 
cool  words  Mrs.  Cherton  turned  and  led  the 
way  into  a  little  room  at  the  side  of  the 
entrance  hall.  It  was  certainly  the  barest  and 
poorest  apartment  that  ever  was  called  a 
"drawing  room."  Somehow,  its  scanty  fur- 
niture, its  shrunken  bits  of  carpet,  the  ex- 
quisite neatness,  the  chill  that  even  the  bright 
coal  fire  in  the  grate  could  not  dissipate,  the 
crocheted  doilies  that  protected  backs  and 
arms  of  the  two  overstuffed  chairs  and  the 

So 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

sofa,  all  spelled  "widow"  to  Philippa  quite  as 
much  as  the  black  dress  and  the  hard,  glit- 
tering black  chain  that  guarded  the  watch 
tucked  into  Mrs.  Cherton's  belt. 

"Oh,  please,  just  let  me  go  around  with  you 
and  do  the  things  you  would  do,"  said  Phil- 
ippa, impulsively.  And  that  seemed  to  please 
Mrs.  Cherton. 

"You  can  spend  the  day,  then?"  she  asked, 
eagerly.  "That's  just  like  your  mother.  Do 
you  know  you're  just  like  her  at  your  age, 
eh-h-h?"  Philippa  thought  she  had  never 
heard  anything  so  long  drawn  out  and  melan- 
choly as  that  "eh,"  and  yet  there  was  some- 
thing cozy  about  it. 

She  trotted  around  very  happily  after  Mrs. 
Cherton,  helping  her  to  make  beds,  dust 
rooms,  and  sort  over  bed  linen.  For  Mrs. 
Cherton  was  getting  her  house  ready  for  the 
small  invasion  of  "paying  guests"  that  usu- 
ally accompanied  the  opening  of  the  Chateau 
and  the  Boys'  School.  Sometimes,  she  told 
Philippa,  she  even  lodged  some  boy  for  a 
short  time,  while  he  was  waiting  for  an  ex- 
pected vacancy  at  the  school. 

"I  should  think  it  would  be  a  great  nui- 
sance," said  Philippa,  whose  attitude  toward 

Si 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

boys  at  that  time  was  apt  to  be  superior 
where  it  was  not  censorious. 

"You  wouldn't  think  I'd  enjoy  it  now,  would 
you,  eh-h-h  ?"  was  Mrs.  Cherton's  unexpected 
answer. 

When  it  became  necessary  for  Mrs.  Cherton 
to  go  out  to  do  her  Saturday  marketing,  she 
hesitated  about  the  disposal  of  Philippa. 
Finally  she  said : 

"I'm  wondering  whether  you  wouldn't  like 
to  stay  up  in  the  attic  until  I  come  back, 
eh-h-h?" 

Rather  naturally  Philippa  looked  at  her  in 
some  surprise. 

"You  haven't  seen  my  attic,  have  you, 
eh-h-h?  If  I  can  recall  the  way  I  felt  when 
I  was  your  age,  I  used  to  think  the  sound  of 
rain  on  the  attic  roof  was  comfortable."  Her 
sad  tone  did  not  agree  with  the  smile  in  her 
eyes,  which  seemed  to  promise  pleasures  that, 
at  first  thought,  sojourning  in  an  attic  would 
never  have  suggested.  "There  are  some  old 
books  up  there  you  might  like  to  look  over, 
just  to  see  what  kind  of  books  we  used  to 
read.  You  can  have  an  indoor  picnic, 
eh-h-h?" 

Philippa  followed  Mrs.  Cherton  to  the 
52 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

attic.  At  the  top  of  the  ladderlike  steps  Phil- 
ippa  emitted  a  "Gosh !"  of  surprise.  Although 
she  saved  herself  from  saying  so,  the  attic 
was  really  the  most  attractive  place  in  the 
house,  she  thought.  It  extended  over  the 
whole  top  of  the  house,  and  the  dormer  win- 
dows seemed  to  divide  it  into  little  separate 
apartments,  each  one  of  which  promised  all 
sorts  of  surprises. 

"Furniture,  books,  clothes."  Mrs.  Cherton, 
with  three  waves  of  the  hand,  indicated  the 
respective  compartments.  "I'm  thinking  I'll 
see  which  one  you'll  go  to  first."  As,  before 
she  had  finished  speaking,  Philippa  had  al- 
ready darted  for  the  old  trunks  and  boxes 
that  contained  the  clothes  of  bygone  days, 
Mrs.  Cherton  smiled  her  drooping  smile, 
whose  apparent  sadness  did  not  conceal  a  good 
deal  of  quiet  amusement. 

"How  in  the  world  can  anyone  be  so  or- 
derly?" was  Philippa's  first  thought  as  she 
surveyed  the  neatly  wrapped  and  tied  and 
labeled  bundles  in  the  first  trunk  she  opened. 
"Oh  dear!  I  wish  Anne  'n'  Virginia  were 
here !"  We  could  dress  up  and  have  more  fun 
acting  plays."  She  had  begun  to  unearth  the 
most  deliciously  funny  stiff  old  dresses.  "But 

53 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

how  in  the  world  could  people  ever  wear  such 
things?  This  skirt  weighs  twenty  pounds  at 
the  very  least.  Look  at  all  that  heavy  lining ! 
And  the  funny  seams  all  down  the  back  of  the 
waist.  It  looks  as  if  they  cut  cloth  up  just  for 
the  pleasure  of  sewing  it  up  again.  And  those 
high  stiff  collars;  I  don't  see  how  they  could 
move  their  heads.  It  must  have  been  torture ! 
And  Muzz  says  our  clothes  now  are  so  eccen- 
tric— when  she  wore  things  like  that!  This 
must  have  been  a  very  grand  party  dress.  I 
suppose  it  must  have  been  white  once — I 
wonder  if  it  could  have  been  a  wedding  dress? 
There's  all  that  pearl  trimming — and  the  train 
must  be  yards  and  yards.  I'll  ask  Mrs. 
Cherton  about  it.  Gosh!  but  it  seems  funny 
to  think  of  her  being  married — or,  rather,  it 
would  have  seemed  funny  when  I  first  saw 
her.  I've  heard  about  those  great  humps  in 
the  dresses  at  the  back.  Bustles,  they  called 
them;  Mother  told  me  about  them  and  how, 
when  hers  wasn't  large  enough,  she  pleated 
stiff  paper  and  fastened  it  on.  But,  oh,  I 
didn't  know  people  ever  wore  hats  like  that! 
It's  a  peanut.  There's  a  looking  glass;  I'll 
try  it  on."  Alone  as  she  was,  Philippa  burst 
into  a  peal  of  laughter  when  she  saw  herself. 

54 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

It  really  was  a  pity  there  was  nobody  to 
hear  it,  for  it  was  delicious  laughter.  "I 
wonder  if  it  ought  to  be  turned  around? 
No,  it  must  have  been  worn  like  that,  tip- 
ping down  on  the  forehead;  it  doesn't  fit 
any  other  way.  I  wouldn't  have  been 
caught  dead  with  that  hat  on  my  head.  I 
certainly  am  glad  I  live  now.  Think  of 
that  hat  compared  with  my  darling  brown 
duvetyn ! 

When  Mrs.  Cherton  came  up  with  an  at- 
tractive luncheon  tray  which  contained,  among 
other  things,  some  amazingly  good  straw- 
berry jam,  she  found  Philippa  half  buried  in 
a  cozy  nest  of  old  comforts  that  she  had 
pulled  from  a  cedar  chest.  On  one  side  of  her 
was  a  curious  assortment  of  objects,  and  on 
the  other  a  number  of  old  paper-back  novels, 
little  pamphlets,  dilapidated  books  with  broken 
board  covers. 

As  soon  as  she  saw  Mrs.  Cherton  she  burst 
out  eagerly : 

"Oh,  there  are  just  heaps  and  heaps  of 
things  I  want  you  to  tell  me  about.  I  just 
can't  wait,  I  really  can't.  This  is  a  man's  silk 
hat,  but  it  certainly  must  have  been  too  small 
for  any  man's  head,  and  there's  an  elastic 
.5  55 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

band  that  must  have  been  to  hold  it  on,  and  I 
never  heard  of  any  man  wearing  one.  And 
what  are  these  things  for?  These  queer 
black-broadcloth  trousers  must  have  been 
worn  by  a  woman ;  they're  long  like  a  man's, 
only  they  taper  off  so  at  the  foot  they'd  look 
too  silly  on  any  man.  And  what  kind  of  a 
skirt  is  this,  all  hunched  up  on  one  side  ?  And 
such  a  stiff  waist !  It's  like  corsets  all  the  way 
up,  with  that  fearful  high  collar — it's  like 
iron — and  buttons  all  down  the  front !  It's  a 
scream!  And  there's  this  darling  little  riding 
whip  with  a  red  handle.  And  where  did  you 
get  this  black  lace  thing?  What  is  that  kind 
of  stone  in  the  whip  ?  And  who  in  the  world 
ever  read  these  books,  The  Pious  Boot- 
black of  Flinchley  Common.  The  very  name 
would  make  you  die  of  laughing.  Did  any- 
one ever  take  things  like  that  seriously  ?  And 
here's  the  funniest  book,  so  lackadaisical 
and  proper,  and  yet  it's  exciting,  too.  I  was 
just  reading  it  while  I  was  waiting  for  you. 

And " 

"Now  you'd  better  just  eat  your  lunch, 
child,"  said  Mrs.  Cherton,  laughing  and 
laughing  heartily.  "Your  tea  will  get 
cold." 

56 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"Oh,  I  can't  wait.  That's  the  ^-looking 
cake.  What  kind  is  it  ?" 

"Plum  cake — English  plum  cake.  They'll 
have  it  to-day  at  almost  every  tea  table  in 
England — only  not  so  good  as  mine.  It's 
still  hot.  I  made  it  just  for  you." 

"Plum  cake!  But  those  aren't  plums; 
they're  raisins.  But  I  can't  wait  now  to  hear 
about  it.  I'm  so  hungry.  Oh,  do  let's  sit 
down  here.  You  take  the  chair.  I'm  per- 
fectly comfortable  on  this  box.  The  trunk 
makes  a  fine  table.  I'm  starved.  This  is  the 
nicest  picnic  I  ever  went  to.  Isn't  the  rain  on 
the  roof  cozy?  I  wonder  if  I'm  wicked  be- 
cause it  makes  me  feel  cozier  to  think  I'm 
under  cover  and  other  people  are  out  in  the 
rain.  I  know  there  are  stories  and  stories  in 
this  attic.  Won't  you  please — pretty-please — 
tell  me  about  the  riding  whip?  I  thought 
people  used  crops.  But  I'm  selfish.  You  must 
eat  your  lunch  before  you  tell  me  anything. 
What?" 

"Now  how  in  the  world  do  you  ever  expect 
me  to  remember  all  your  questions,  eh-h-h? 
Oh  yes,  I'll  drink  some  tea  and  eat  some  bread 
and  butter.  Now,  will  you  eat  your  lunch? 
I'll  do  all  the  talking.  What  do  you  want  to 

57 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

know  first,  about  books  or  clothes  ?  I'll  prob- 
ably give  out  before  I  answer  all  your  ques- 
tions." 

Philippa,  her  mouth  full  of  jam  and  bread, 
motioned  toward  the  silk  hat. 

"I  thought  so,"  said  Mrs.  Cherton,  with 
severity.  "This  is  a  light-minded  generation, 
interested  only  in  transitory  vanities,  isn't  it, 
eh-h-h  ?  The  silk  hat,  young  lady,  was  worn 
by  me  when  I  was  a  girl  in  England.  In  India 
I  usually  wore  a  linen  habit  with  a  broad- 
brimmed  hat,  of  course." 

"In  India?"  A  piece  of  plum  cake  sus- 
pended on  its  way  to  her  mouth,  Philippa 
stared  in  amazement. 

"Yes.  I  didn't  come  to  the  Colony — to 
Canada  until  long  after  I  was  married. 
I " 

"What  I  really  want,  Mrs.  Cherton,"  said 
Philippa,  with  shining  eyes,  "is  the  whole 
story  of  your  life."  The  dim  corners  of  the 
attic,  the  cozy  plip-plop  of  the  rain  on  the 
roof  so  short  a  space  above  her  head,  the  slant- 
ing lines  of  rain  whose  crystal  bars  seemed  to 
fence  them  in  and  the  hardships  of  the  world 
out,  the  homely  comfort  of  good  food  to  a 
hungry  appetite,  all  this  cast  a  pleasant  spell 

58 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

over  Philippa.  Mrs.  Cherton  was  no  longer 
a  rather  dreary-looking  person  in  perpetual 
black;  she  was  clad  in  the  radiant  colors  of 
the  imagination;  she  carried  the  wand  that 
could  transform  everything.  For  one  wave 
of  it  would  bring  to  the  dusky  attic  Romance. 


CHAPTER  VII 

'  T LIVED  in  Kent,  England,  when  I  was  a 
L  girl,  said  Mrs.  Cherton,  her  eyes  on  the 
long  lines  of  rain.  The  spell  of  the  day  was 
over  her,  too.  Philippa's  bright  eager  eyes, 
the  sympathy  in  the  mobile  red  lips,  were  keys 
to  unlock  the  most  rigidly  guarded  confi- 
dences. As  Mrs.  Cherton  spoke  she  held  the 
little  riding  whip  in  her  hands — and  held  it 
tenderly.  "Ours  was  a  county  family,  no  title, 
but  proud  because  there  had  been  Buxtons  of 
Barcombe  long  before  any  of  the  titles  we 
knew  had  been  given.  There  were  five  girls 
of  us  and  one  boy.  He  was  the  youngest, 
but,  of  course,  he  was  the  heir.  And  as  the 
entail  had  been  broken  and  diverted  away 
from  our  family  on  much  of  the  original 
estate,  and  as  Eton  and  Oxford  for  Walter 
cost  a  great  deal,  we  girls  had  to  be  content 
with  rather  inferior  governesses  much  of  the 
time,  and  our  dressing  allowances  were  too 
small  to  turn  us  out  decently." 

60 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"But  I  think  that's  queer.  My  father  'n' 
mother  say  that  it  is  just  as  important  for 
girls  to  be  well  educated  as  boys.  And  if 
there  isn't  enough  money  to  go  around,  there 
are  many  more  ways  for  boys  to  go  out  and 
earn  part  of  their  college  expenses  than  for 
girls.  And  it's  good  training  for  them,  too. 
Bayard  always  has " 

Mrs.  Cherton  smiled  faintly : 

"That  wasn't  the  way  in  England,  then, 
and  isn't  now,  either.  There  wasn't  any  way 
for  any  of  us  to  make  any  money  that  wouldn't 
have  been  a  disgrace  to  the  family.  All  the 
money  is  spent  on  the  heir  and  the  girls  have 
to  get  along  the  best  way  they  can " 

"But  Daddy  says  that's  such  bad  economy," 
said  Philippa,  eagerly.  "Girls  as  well  as  boys 
ought  to  be  provided  with  a  profession,  some- 
thing they  can  do  well.  I'm  going  in  for  com- 
mercial art — advertising — probably." 

"But  the  only  thing  we  girls  were  supposed 
to  do  was  to  get  married.  The  only  money 
that  was  ever  spent  on  us,  except  for  the  bar- 
est necessities,  was  for  our  season  in  London. 
And  I  never  even  had  my  season,  because  I 
was  nearest  in  age  to  Walter  and  the  year  I 
should  have  gone  his  chambers  at  Christ 

61 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Church,  Oxford,  had  to  be  fitted  up  and  that 
took  all  the  money.  And  the  next  turn  was 
Gwenn's.  So  they  married  me  to  the  first  man 
who  asked  for  me." 

"Oh,  but  you  loved  him,  of  course?"  Phil- 
ippa  stopped  eating,  a  piece  of  plum  cake  in 
her  hand,  to  ask  this  with  round  eyes.  "And 
he  must  have  been  nice.  They  wouldn't  have 
let  you  if  he  hadn't  been.  Mother  says  that 
Daddy's  first  impulse  is  to  shoot  anyone  he 
thinks  is  in  love  with  Doreen." 

Mrs.  Cherton  smiled  faintly.  But  she  kept 
her  eyes  turned  away. 

"They  thought  it  a  very  good  match  for 
me,"  she  said,  guardedly.  "I  was  lucky  to 
have  an  offer  at  all,  since  I  wouldn't  have  any 
portion  to  speak  of  and  wasn't  a  dashing 
beauty  like  Gwenn.  Of  course,  I  had  to  marry, 
before  she  came  out,  for  men  wouldn't  look 
at  me  after  they  had  seen  her.  And — perhaps 
my  father  didn't  know  some  of  the  things. 
Oh  well,  I  was  very  well  pleased  to  marry  and 
go  out  to  India^  it  seemed  almost  as  much  a 
fairy  tale  to  me  as  it  does  to  you.  But  before 
we  sailed  I  was  presented  at  court,  'on  my 
marriage,'  as  we  say.  That  was  when  I  wore 
that  dress  with  the  long  train;  it  was  white 

62 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

then.  And  it  was  delightful  for  a  time.  Eng- 
lish army  posts  are  very  good  to  a  bride  com- 
ing out.  There  are  so  many  more  men  than 
women,  you  see.  So — I  had  my  gay  time. 
And  that  was  when  I  rode  in  a  linen  habit — 
sometimes  in  the  black  one,  too,  up  in  the  hills. 
And  the  silk  hat  was  the  proper  thing  to  wear 
with  a  cloth  habit,  and  very  smart  we  looked, 
too,  though  it  seems  odd  enough  to  you.  The 
queer  shape  of  the  skirt  is  because  it  had  to 
fit  over  the  right  knee,  riding  side  saddle. 
The  riding  whip  was  given  me  by  the  wife  of 
the  governor-general.  She  was  a  great  friend 
of  mine.  The  handle  is  carnelian  and  ivory. 
Carnelian  was  often  cut  as  a  gem  when  I  was 
young.  So  it  was  all  very  gay  and  happy 
for  a  time." 

"Oh  dear!  Aren't  you  going  to  tell  any 
more?  I  wanted  to  hear  all  about  elephant 
hunts  and  conjurers  and  everything.  Why 
wasn't  it  gay  all  the  time  ?" 

"Because  my  husband  had  to  sell  out.  He 
wasn't  very — prudent  and  he  had  a  racing 
stable  and  bet  wildly  and — lost  money  in  other 
ways.  So  we  had  to  go." 

"But  couldn't  you  have  stayed  and  lived 
economically  on  his  income?"  Philippa  was 

63 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

full  of  dismay  at  this  sad  ending  of  her  fairy 
tale. 

"The  salary  of  an  English  army  officer 
wouldn't  have  kept  my  husband  in  riding 
boots,"  Mrs.  Cherton  said,  wearily.  "Even 
now  a  man  has  to  be  a  colonel  before  he  re- 
ceives what  a  girl  stenographer  is  paid  in  the 
States.  An  army  officer  is  supposed  to  have 
an  income.  I  found  that  my  husband's  estates 
were  all  in  the  hands  of  the  money  lenders. 
So — there  was  nothing  to  do  but  sell  out.  He 
had  no  training  that  would  fit  him  for  any- 
thing on  the  Civil  List.  We  had  to  start  all 
over  in  some  other  place. 

"First,  my  husband  went  to  Central  Amer- 
ica. A  revolution  was  brewing  there,  and  he 
was  commissioned  to  train  their  army  of  the 
revolutionists.  He  did  it  well,  too.  The 
revolution  was  victorious  and  we  were  very 
grand  for  a  time,  lived  in  a  wonderful  old 
Spanish  palace  with  a  lovely  fountain  in  the 
patio,  and  I  received  at  all  the  state  functions 
with  the  president's  wife.  It  was  all  very 
funny,  for  the  women  were  kept  in  their 
houses  like  odalisques  in  a  harem  and  they 
didn't  have  any  more  sense  than  an  American 
child  of  ten — not  so  much.  And  half  of  the 

64 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

leading  officials  were  part  negro.  So — along 
came  another  revolution  and  we  had  to  escape 
between  sunset  and  dawn.  We  had  a  fright- 
ful time  of  it,  getting  away,  because  they 
never  had  paid  my  husband  all  the  money  he 
was  supposed  to  have  and  everybody  had  to 
be  bribed  to  do  the  slightest  thing  for  us. 
But  I  sold  all  my  jewelry  that  was  left  and 
we  got  away.  But  that  was  when  I  found  this 
black  lace  mantilla  convenient  to  hide  my  face 
with." 

"And  then — ?"  Philippa  wouldn't  let  her 
stop. 

"We  came  to  Canada  because  an  old  friend 
of  my  husband's  was  head  master  in  the  boys' 
school  here  and  offered  to  make  him  a  master. 
After  he  died  I  stayed  on  here.  And  that's 
all.  Some  of  the  boys  they  send  me  are  nice 
little  fellows,  almost  as  a  boy  of  my  own  might 
have  been.  They  write  to  me  sometimes. 
Now  is  there  anything  else  you  want  to  ask  me 
about?" 

"This  little  white  slipper.  Could  you  ever 
get  that  on?  I've  tried  and  tried  and  I  can't 
even  get  my  toes  in  it." 

"I  wore  that  when  I  was  married  and  when 
I  was  presented.  I  did  have  a  rather  small 

65 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

foot  for  an  English  girl.  But  it  was  larger 
than  most  of  my  friends  from  the  States  and 
enormous  beside  the  feet  of  the  Central  Amer- 
ican women.  But  my  feet  are  two  or  three 
sizes  larger  now." 

"Oh  dear!  If  my  feet  are  two  or  three 
sizes  larger  when  I'm  as  old  as  you  what  will 
I  do!"  Philippa  wailed,  disconsolately.  "All 
the  girls  have  bigger  feet  than  their  mothers 
had.  It's  awful." 

Mrs.  Cherton  hastened  to  divert  her : 

"You  haven't  asked  me  about  the  books  yet, 
or  the  furniture.  You'll  have  to  hurry  up.  I 
must  go  and  see  about  my  jam  on  the  stove. 
The  boys  eat  tons  of  it." 

Philippa  looked  at  her  a  little  uncertainly. 
She  didn't  quite  know  how  Mrs.  Cherton 
would  take  her  question. 

"I  did  want  to  know  whether  you  really 
ever  liked  those  books,  The  Pious  Bootblack 
of  Flinchley  Common,  and  all." 

Mrs.  Cherton  tried  to  keep  a  very  grave 
face. 

"Don't  you  think  they  are  nice,  moral  sto- 
ries ?"  she  asked,  noncommittally. 

"Well — maybe  I  haven't  been  brought  up 
to  just  that  kind  of  religion,"  faltered  Phil- 

66 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

ippa,  feeling  that  she  had  probably  committed 
a  frightful  breach  of  courtesy  in  seeming  to 
cast  aspersions  on  her  hostess's  taste. 

Then  Mrs.  Cherton  laughed  outright,  the 
first  merry  laugh  that  Philippa  had  heard 
from  her.  It  took  twenty  years  from  her  age. 

"My  dear,  one  of  my  sisters  sent  me  those 
tracts.  She  is  quite  the  richest  of  the  family — 
and  the  most  pious.  Once,  when  I  was  in  sore 
straits  for  money,  I  wrote  her,  asking  for  a 
loan.  She  wrote  back  that  she  had  none  she 
could  spare,  advised  me  to  seek  comfort  from 
Above.  And  with  the  letter  came  those  re- 
markable compositions.  I  don't  believe  tracts 
are  published  in  these  days.  I  hope  not.  It 
was  then  that  I  realized  that  families  seemed 
to  think  there  was  an  invariable  connection 
between  bad  morals  and  need  of  money.  I 
must  admit  I  never  read  the  things.  But  I 
kept  them,  in  a  not  very  pleasant  spirit,  I'm 
afraid.  They  reminded  me — not  to  expect 
certain  things." 

"But  that  was  dreadful  of  her."  Philippa 
looked  deeply  mortified.  "And  what  did  you 
do?" 

There  was  a  lovely  smile  on  Mrs.  Cherton's 
worn  face. 

67 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"An  old  servant  of  mine,  who  had  been  with 
me  through  many  trying  times,  brought  to  me 
the  sum  I  needed,  almost  all  her  savings.  I 
took  the  money  and  thanked  God,  quite  as 
devoutly  as  James  or  Peter  or  whatever  the 
.objectionable  little  bootblack's  name  was  could 
possibly  have  done.  But  what  I  thanked  God 
for  was  that  I  was  saved  from  being  bitter." 

"Mother  says  I'm  always  so  annoying  be- 
cause I  always  want  to  know  more  about 
every  story  she  tells  me.  But  what  happened 
to  the  old  servant?" 

"She  calls  herself  my  old  servant  still,  al- 
though it  is  many  months  since  she  has  been 
able  to  do  any  work.  She  lives  in  my  nice 
comfortable  kitchen  and  her  own  warm  room. 
And  sometimes,  when  we're  very  grand,  she 
puts  on  a  marvelous  white  cap  and  apron  and 
totters  to  open  the  door  for  a  guest.  She 
feels  that  the  position  of  her  Mistress  is 
thereby  saved.  And  now  I  must  be  going. 
Aren't  you  tired  of  the  attic  yet?" 

"No,  I  think  I'll  stay  and  read  this  book. 
It's  silly  and  the  heroine  is  always  fainting 
at  things.  And  the  hero  weeps  sometimes — 
a  man  crying.  It's  awfully  funny  and  old- 
fashioned.  But  it  is  exciting,  all  the  same. 

68 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Some  other  time  I'm  going  to  ask  you  about 
the  queer  old  furniture." 

"I  fancy  I'll  be  bringing  some  of  the  queer 
old  furniture  down."  Mrs.  Cherton  gave  a 
keen  glance  around  the  collection  of  dusty 
wooden  headboards  and  battered  washstands. 
"I'm  going  to  have  an  extra  boy  here  for  a 
few  days  until  they  can  fit  him  in  at  the 
school,  and  I'll  have  to  put  another  bed  in  the 
big  southeast  room.  By  the  way,  it's  an 
American  boy  whom  your  mother  seems  to 
know.  Perhaps  you  have  heard  something 
about  it,  eh-h-h?"  She  looked  at  Philippa 
over  her  eyeglasses  with  rather  a  quizzical 
smile. 

"No.  Who  is  it?"  Philippa  was  on  fire 
with  excitement  in  a  minute.  Anybody  from 
home  would  be  thrilling. 

"The  name — what  is  that  name,  now?  Re- 
minds me  of  something  in  your  United  States 
History.  Ran — no — yes,  it  is  Randolph " 

"Not  Jeff— it  can't  be  Jeff?  What  in  the 

world is  it  Jeff  Randolph?  It  just 

simply  can't  be!  oh,  please  let  me  know  right 
away !  That  would  be  too  wonderful !" 

Mrs.  Cherton  made  a  great  show  of  effort, 
lifting  up  her  decent  black  dress  skirt  to  dis- 

69 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

close  an  equally  decent  black  silk  petticoat 
which  apparently  harbored  a  pocket.  In  the 
pocket  was  a  piece  of  flimsy  yellow  paper. 
She  unfolded  it  and,  maddeningly,  scanned  it. 

"Yes,  it  is  Randolph,"  she  said,  finally. 
"And  now  that  I  think  of  it,  your  mother  says, 
'Tell  Philippa.'  I  do  hope  he  is  a  nice  boy  and 
won't  give  me  or  the  school  any  trouble.  But, 
being  an  American "  she  ended  by  shak- 
ing her  head  solemnly. 

But  Philippa  was  ready  for  her.  She  felt 
she  had  shown  far  more  enthusiasm  than  she 
should  have  done  over  a  mere  boy.  If  it  had 
been  Anne  or  Virginia  she  couldn't  ha.ve  ap- 
peared more  excited,  she  told  herself.  She 
hated  to  show  any  eagerness  about  a  boy;  it 
was  during  the  last  year  that  she  had  become 
sensitive  on  the  subject.  She  had  always 
prided  herself  on  not  being  silly.  Perhaps 
being  so  glad  that  Jeff  was  coming  was  being 
silly. 

"I  must  have  seemed  simply  mushy,"  she 
thought.  So  she  assumed  a  negligent  expres- 
sion of  countenance. 

"Oh  dear !  I  was  afraid  it  might  be  Jeff. 
I  only  hope  he  won't  try  to  tag  around  all  the 
time." 

70 


CHAPTER  VIII 

ON  her  first  Monday  morning  at  the  Cha- 
teau, Philippa  was  rudely  awakened  by 
some  alarming  concussion  of  sound  that  sent 
her  out  of  bed  with  a  conviction  that  the  war 
had  been  suddenly  renewed,  shifted  to  Can- 
ada, and  that  the  house  she  was  in  was  being 
bombed.  A  cold  gray  light  had  sifted  through 
the  window  into  her  room.  After  a  moment 
of  utter  bewilderment  thought  came  to  her 
and  she  took  the  little  traveling  clock  that  her 
mother  had  given  her  to  the  window. 

"Half-past  six!"  she  said,  out  loud.  "I 
thought  it  must  be  three  in  the  morning."  A 
glance  out  of  the  window  gave  her  the  expla- 
nation. "Oh,  it's  going  to  be  a  miserable  rainy 
day !"  she  thought.  The  tears  that  welled  into 
her  eyes  seemed  surprising  to  Philippa 
herself.  She  had  gone  to  bed  feeling  quite 
cheerful. 

Stumbling  about  the  unfamiliar  little  room, 
6  7i 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

she  tried  to  bathe  and  dress.  In  that  dismal 
gray  light  it  seemed  impossible  that  she  could 
ever  learn  to  get  along  without  her  half  or 
third  share  in  a  bathroom  in  the  morning. 
Madame  had  explained  the  night  before  that, 
as  the  house  was  old-fashioned  and  had  one 
bathroom  only  on  each  floor,  a  regular  sched- 
ule would  have  to  be  arranged  by  which  each 
girl  should  have  the  bath  a  certain  number  of 
times  a  week.  In  the  morning  a  cold  sponge 
bath  in  the  rooms  must  serve. 

"I  just  never  will  get  used  to  it,"  grumbled 
Philippa,  splashing  water  over  the  floor  and 
being  generally  clumsy.  "It's  like  taking  a 
bath  in  a  saucer."  Not  being  accustomed  to 
doing  things  by  schedule,  knowing  that  break- 
fast was  at  half-past  seven  and  that  prompt- 
ness was  insisted  on,  she  felt  nervously  driven. 

"I  suppose  I  might  as  well  put  on  the  school 
uniform,"  she  grumbled  again.  "I  think  a 
uniform  is  the  silliest  thing,  anyway." 

But  when  she  was  dressed  in  the  plain  blue 
serge  dress  held  in  only  by  a  loose  belt  and 
with  plain  white  collar,  her  hair  fluffed  out 
and  her  eyes  bright  and  cheeks  glowing  from 
cold  water  and  haste,  she  couldn't  help  feeling 
that  the  picture  the  looking  glass  showed  her 

72 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

wasn't  an  unattractive  one  at  all.  That  made 
her  more  cheerful.  She  had  some  minutes  to 
wait  before  the  breakfast  gong  would  sound. 

"I  wonder  if  any  of  the  girls  will  be  down 
as  early  as  this;  I'd  like  to  get  acquainted." 
But  a  most  unusual  shyness  held  her;  she 
hadn't  forgotten  her  encounter  with  the  girl 
with  the  two  heavy  black  braids  in  the  room 
opposite.  So  she  sat  down  and  tried  to  read 
a  little  instead  of  running  any  risks. 

Breakfast  didn't  go  very  well.  Mademoi- 
selle had  been  moved  to  the  other  table,  for 
some  reason,  and  her  place  next  Philippa  was 
filled  by  the  stiff  girl.  That  was  a  blow !  Ma- 
dame was  so  occupied  pouring  coffee  and  see- 
ing that  everyone  was  served  that  Philippa 
couldn't  catch  her  eye.  Madame's  little  mouth 
was  compressed  anxiously  as  she  directed  the 
awkward  young  girl  who,  all  angles  and  unin- 
telligent bustle,  was  almost  purple  from  em- 
barrassment. The  stiff  girl  returned  Phil- 
ippa's  "good-morning"  perfunctorily,  but 
seemed  to  feel  no  longing  for  any  further  con- 
versation. As  Effie  White,  for  some  reason, 
did  not  come  to  breakfast  that  morning,  and 
Philippa  was  determined  to  initiate  no  more 
conversations  with  the  neighbor  on  her  right, 

73 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

she  seemed  condemned  to  silence  and  isolation. 
She  had  been  served  with  toast  and  no  butter, 
with  coffee,  but  with  neither  cream  nor  sugar. 
She  had  known  the  phrases  by  which  she 
should  ask  for  those  very  necessary  things, 
but  all  of  her  French  evaporated  in  the  un- 
congenial atmosphere.  She  sat  for  some  min- 
utes, seeing  coffee  and  toast  growing  cold 
before  her  eyes  before  she  could  nerve  herself 
to  speak.  She  had  to  speak  in  English. 

"You're  breaking  the  rule;  English  isn't 
spoken,"  said  the  girl  on  her  right  with  vir- 
tuous disapproval,  as  she  passed  cream  and 
sugar  and  butter. 

Philippa  couldn't  help  the  retort : 
"You  broke  it  yourself  telling  me  I  did," 
she  flashed  out,  laughing  a  bit  because,  after 
all,  it  was  funny. 

Her  neighbor  favored  her  with  an  ungra- 
cious stare: 

"Just  like  a  pushing  American  to  say  that." 
Philippa,  with  cheeks  scarlet — she  would 
have  been  puzzled  to  know  whether  it  was 
from  anger  or  from  embarrassment — decided 
she  would  ask  for  nothing  more  under  any 
consideration.  She  swallowed  a  few  mouth- 
f  uls,  and  was  so  unhappy  that  each  one  nearly 

74 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

choked  her.  Since  it  was  not  permitted  to 
leave  the  table  until  after  Madame  did,  unless 
there  was  some  very  good  reason,  Philippa 
had  to  sit  still  while  the  girls  all  about  her  ate 
their  way  stolidly  through  a  hearty  breakfast. 
She  could  no  more  have  addressed  a  request 
in  French  to  Madame  across  that  table  of 
Canadian  schoolgirls  than  she  could  have  done 
the  "human  fly"  act  up  the  Washington  monu- 
ment. It  was  especially  embarrassing,  too, 
for  if  she  lowered  her  eyes  it  was  hard  to 
prevent  the  tears  from  coming,  and  if  she 
raised  them  she  was  apt  to  meet  the  eye  of 
some  girl  who — her  unhappy  imagination 
made  her  believe — was  as  unfriendly  as  the 
girl  next  her  seemed  to  be.  It  seemed  hours 
before  she  could  escape. 

They  assembled  in  the  bare,  austere  school- 
room upstairs  for  morning  prayers.  Madame 
conducted  the  service.  Her  face  diffused 
peace.  As  she  read  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount,  all  of  Philippa's  hurt  and  anger  van- 
ished. The  hushed,  reverent  voice  cast  a 
spell.  The  songs  were  from  a  French  hymnal 
which  she  had  never  seen ;  the  airs  were  un- 
familiar but  very  sweet.  In  the  chorus  Phil- 
ippa was  self-conscious  about  neither  her 

75 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

French  nor  her  voice,  so,  after  a  few  quaver- 
ing experimental  strains,  her  clear  sweet  voice 
rose  quite  joyously  with  the  rest.  Then  Ma- 
dame, in  tones  that  made  one  feel  that  she 
was  really  in  communcation  with  the  Unseen, 
breathed  a  touchingly  simple  prayer  of  aspira- 
tion. After  that,  she  spoke  directly  to  the 
girls.  Her  few  words  of  welcome  and  of  ex- 
planation of  the  rules  of  the  school,  unassum- 
ing as  words  and  manner  were,  carried  an 
authority,  complete  and  unquestioned.  It  was 
hard  to  explain  this  because  of  Madame's  ab- 
solute simplicity — even  humility.  Philippa,  a 
little  awestruck,  wondered : 

"It's  as  if  she  herself  had  heard — Some- 
thing Higher.  It's  that  Something  that  must 
be  obeyed.  She  doesn't  care  about  herself." 

Soothed  and  heartened,  Philippa  went  to 
her  room  for  the  straightening-up  process 
that  was  to  be  part  of  the  daily  program ;  the 
girls  were  marked,  she  had  learned,  in  neat- 
ness ;  that  meant,  their  own  personal  tidiness, 
their  table  manners,  the  condition  of  their 
rooms  and  all  their  belongings.  The  mark 
for  neatness  was  as  important,  it  seemed,  as 
the  scholarship  marks.  That  seemed  an 
astounding  thing. 

76 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"Gosh !  that  '11  be  hard  on  me,"  Philippa 
breathed  to  herself. 

That  first  day,  of  course,  could  be  little 
more  than  blocking  out  the  studies  for  the 
year.  It  seemed  extraordinary  to  Philippa 
that  she  was  to  have  six  French  lessons  a  day : 
grammar,  composition,  prepared  translation, 
sight  translation,  reading,  conversation.  But 
she  did  not  question  Madame's  judgment. 
Perhaps  that  was  because  Madame  said,  with 
her  faraway  twinkle : 

"You  are  thinking  that  you  will  grow  to 
hate  the  French  because  you  will  be  so  bored. 
But  I  think  not." 

Besides  the  French,  she  was  to  have  alge- 
bra, Canadian  history,  and  English  literature. 
In  the  preliminary  classes  where  Madame  and 
Mademoiselle — but  what  a  different,  dignified 
Mademoiselle — used  French  altogether  in  ex- 
plaining the  lessons,  Philippa  was  amazed  to 
find  how  well  she  understood,  and  astonished 
herself  by  getting  out  several  sentences  with- 
out stammering  or  halting.  But  she  was 
mortified  to  find  that  she  would  be  in  class 
with  the  little  girls  in  French,  while  she  was 
with  the  older  girls  in  the  English  subjects. 
And  only  one  other  girl,  the  one  with  the  black 

77 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

braids,  was  advanced  enough  to  be  taking 
algebra ! 

"The  translation  we  will  wait  a  few  days 
before  beginning,"  said  Madame,  "until  I  dive 
to  the  depths  of  you  and  bring  up  all  the 
French  verbs  I  can  find."  And  she  wrinkled 
her  small  nose  and  laughed,  her  hushed  little 
laugh.  "Then  we  will  put  you  in  the  class 
where  you  belong  and  advance  you  when  you 
are  beyond  it." 

"I'm  sure  I'll  never  get  beyond  it,"  said 
Philippa,  with  most  unusual  humility.  "I  feel 
so  stupid  here ;  none  of  the  things  that  I  know 
seem  to  count.  If  I  keep  up  I'll  be  lucky." 

"We  will  see,"  said  Madame,  noncommit- 
tally.  But  the  way  her  eyes  twinkled  was 
encouraging. 

The  day  passed  quite  briskly.  Philippa,  all 
through  the  meeting  of  the  various  classes, 
making  acquaintance  with  the  English  teacher, 
lunch,  a  funny  decorous  walk  in  a  long  line, 
or  girls  walking  two  by  two  with  Miss  Shelby 
at  the  head,  was  so  busy  and  so  interested 
that  she  forgot  to  ask  herself  whether  she  was 
unhappy  or  not. 


CHAPTER  IX 

A  LETTER  that  came  from  Mrs.  Gale 
JTi.  Wednesday  morning  confirmed  and 
explained  the  telegram.  Senator  Randolph, 
it  seemed,  expected  to  have  to  use  all  the 
Thanksgiving  recess  and  the  Christmas  recess 
traveling.  He  was  chairman  on  the  Senate 
Committee  on  Insular  Possessions  and  had  a 
tour  of  investigation  to  make  in  connection 
with  it,  and  was  also  obliged  to  spend  some 
time  "back  home"  in  straightening  out  his 
business  affairs.  In  fact,  he  would  be  away 
from  Washington  much  of  the  coming  winter. 
He  did  not  like  the  idea  of  leaving  Jeff  alone 
with  the  servants  so  long  in  his  Washington 
house,  and  all  the  preparatory  schools  where 
he  had  made  inquiries  were  full.  Mrs.  Gale's 
account  of  the  boys'  school  in  Lanoraie  had 
interested  him,  especially  as  Jeff  needed  Latin 
—in  which  the  school  was  especially  strong — 
and  a  modern  language  for  college  entrance. 

79 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

The  head  master  had  wired  back,  explaining 
the  arrangement  that  might  be  made  with 
Mrs.  Cherton.  Jeff,  in  the  meantime,  had 
been  conducting  researches  on  his  own  ac- 
count as  to  the  winter  sports  in  Canada.  The 
result  was  that  Jeff  would  arrive  before  many 
days. 

"But,  oh  dear !  a  boy  isn't  a  girl,"  Philippa 
sighed,  with  a  homesick  longing  for  Anne  and 
Virginia.  Still,  the  thought  of  anybody  from 
home  gave  life  a  different  aspect.  "And  if  it 
had  to  be  one  of  the  boys  instead  of  Anne  'n' 
Virginia,  I'd  rather  have  Jeff  than  anyone 
else,"  she  went  so  far  as  to  admit. 

Her  school  work  began  to  interest  Philippa, 
particularly  the  French  classes.  Considering 
how  little  she  seemed  to  have  learned  in  her 
four  lessons  of  French  a  week  the  year  before, 
it  seemed  fairly  miraculous  that,  at  the  end  of 
one  week,  she  could  really  exchange  a  few 
simple  sentences  in  French  with  Madame  or 
Mademoiselle.  At  the  table  she  had  no  diffi- 
culty whatever  in  making  her  wants  known  or 
in  responding  to  those  of  others.  Madame 
was  really  a  marvelous  teacher.  While  the 
language  sounded  both  beautiful  and  exotic 
on  her  lips,  and  she  apparently  talked  at  the 

80 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

usual  conversational  speed  of  her  compatriots, 
her  enunciation  was  so  softly  distinct  and 
she  had  had  so  much  experience  with  the  lin- 
guistic difficulties  of  the  learner,  and  her  face 
and  the  delicate  pantomime  with  which  she 
accompanied  her  words  were  so  expressive, 
that  it  seemed  almost  impossible  not  to  get  the 
sense  at  least,  of  what  she  said.  Her  patience 
was  endless  and  the  sense  of  humor  which  she 
could  never  quite  suppress  had  a  way  of  mak- 
ing difficulties  and  mistakes  funny  instead  of 
irritating  or  discouraging.  Philippa  had 
grammar,  composition,  and  sight  translation 
with  her,  the  prepared  translation  and  read- 
ing with  Mademoiselle,  while  the  whole  school 
came  together  for  conversation  at  the  end  of 
the  school  day.  Then  certain  girls  were  al- 
ways chosen  to  tell  some  incident  of  the  day, 
and  Madame  prompted,  encouraged,  told 
funny  stories  herself,  and,  above  all,  listened 
with  a  concentration  that  was  almost  genius. 
At  this  time  the  girls  were  never  interrupted 
for  corrections  of  mistakes,  although,  the  next 
day,  these  had  a  way  of  coming  up  in  gram- 
mar or  composition  class. 

French  conversation  with  the  girls  had  its 
funny  side.    They  were  expected  to  report  at 

81 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

night  whether  they  had  faithfully  spoken 
French  all  day  or  not.  In  the  report  the  vary- 
ing degrees  of  conscientiousness  were  illus- 
trated most  amusingly.  Some  girls  unblush- 
ingly  reported  that  they  had  kept  the  rule 
when  Philippa  knew  that  the  style  of  their 
conversation  had  been  something  less  than 
"the  French  of  Strafford — atte — Bowe,"  had 
been;  in  fact,  after  the  manner  of  "Voulez- 
vous  come  and  take  a  walk  avec  me?"  An- 
other girl — that  was  Flora  Brundage,  the 
perpetually  red  eyed — once  burst  into  tears 
and  confessed  herself  a  criminal  of  the  deep- 
est dye  because  she  could  not  be  sure  that  she 
had  not  used  an  English  word  at  breakfast 
time  without  prefacing  it  with,  "Qu'est-ce-que 
c'est  que ?"  It  must  be  admitted,  how- 
ever, that  Flora  was  the  morbidly  conscien- 
tious girl  of  the  school  and  had  no  imitators. 
The  quaint  old  History  of  Canada  that 
Philippa  studied  filled  her  with  interest.  The 
stories  of  Jacques  Cartier  and  Champlain ;  of 
the  missionary  Brebeuf  and  the  "coureur  de 
bois"  Du  Lhut  of  Frontenac;  of  the  heroic 
women,  of  whom  Marguerite  Bourgeoys  was 
the  leader;  of  the  gallant  soldier  D'Iberville 
and  the  English  conqueror  Wolfe;  the  brav- 

82 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

ery  of  the  explorers  and  the  heroism  of  the 
missionaries.  The  picturesqueness,  the  self- 
sacrifice,  the  hardships,  all  filled  her  with  en- 
thusiasm ;  the  romantic  sounding  names  kin- 
dled her  imagination.  The  fact  that  it  had 
once  been  considered  possible  to  make  friends 
of  the  Indians,  and  that  this  had  been  par- 
tially accomplished  was  a  revelation  to  her. 
With  the  sometimes  uncomfortable  habit  of 
drawing  conclusions,  she  could  not  help  con- 
trasting this  early  era  of  missionary  zeal  with 
the  later  succession  of  bloody  tragedies  which 
had  finally  established  the  whites  as  the  own- 
ers of  the  entire  domain  of  the  American  In- 
dians. The  fact  that  she  was  living  on  the 
bank  of  the  same  river  down  which  Jacques 
Cartier  and  Champlain  had  sailed;  her  dis- 
covery of  the  old  manor  and  what  Made- 
moiselle had  told  her  of  its  history ;  the  young 
Englishman  who  was  that  romantic  thing, 
the  descendant  of  the  'Seigneurs"  of  the 
manor — although  Philippa  would  not  have 
been  the  descendant  of  .Yankees  had  she  not 
realized  that  the  rents  from  a  few  tiny  cabins 
and  equally  small  farms  did  not  make  a 
princely  income — all  these  things  made  her 
eager  to  know  the  whole  history  of  the  land. 

83 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Her  genuine  interest  in  it  all  seemed  sur- 
prising to  the  six  rather  stolid  girls  who  made 
up  the  history  class.  These  were  her  corridor 
vis-a-vis:  Margaret  Dixon,  whom  Philippa 
made  a  point  of  keeping  aloof  from;  the 
Turner  sisters ;  Flora  Brundage ;  Effie  White, 
and  a  girl  named  Jamison  about  whom  Phil- 
ippa had  no  distinct  idea  as  yet.  In  general, 
they  seemed  to  feel  that  history  was  a  task 
of  which  you  had  so  many  pages  a  day  as- 
signed to  you;  you  performed  your  whole 
duty  when  you  had  memorized  it.  Appar- 
ently, it  never  occurred  to  them  that  it  had  any 
connection  with  themselves  or  their  lives.  If 
they  had  known  that  Philippa  sometimes  read 
on  ahead  of  the  assignment,  they  would  have 
regarded  her  as  more  of  a  freak  than  they  ap- 
parently already  did. 

Perhaps  some  of  Margaret  Dixon's  increas- 
ing antagonism  to  "the  American"  came  from 
the  fact  that  Philippa  was  clever  in  algebra, 
while  Margaret  was,  to  Philippa,  inconceiv- 
ably "dense."  Long  after  Philippa  had  grasped 
the  essential  features  of  a  theorem  and  the 
reasons  for  it,  Margaret  was  groping  around 
in  a  fog  of  confusion  mixed  with  resentment. 
It  appeared  sometimes  th' '  she  thought  under- 

84 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

standing  mathematics  was  an  evidence  of  an 
inferior  intelligence.  Sometimes  she  implied 
that  everything  was  explained  by  Philippa's 
being  the  teacher's  favorite. 

"It's  funny  that  when  she  seems  to  think 
it's  only  inferior  persons  who  can  understand 
how  to  square  a  negative  quantity,  she  should 
be  so  sore  at  me  for  being  able  to  do  it," 
thought  Philippa,  with  amusement  tempered 
with  exasperation. 

There  was  more  loneliness  and  forlornness 
in  the  situation,  though,  than  anything  else. 
If  there  had  been  some  one — Mother  or  Anne 
or  Virginia — to  laugh  with  about  it,  it  would 
have  been  funny.  But  there  seemed  to  be  no 
one  to  laugh  with.  Madame,  of  course,  was 
too  far  above  all  human  frailties  to  quite 
understand,  Philippa  thought.  Moreover,  the 
spell  she  exerted  over  even  the  most  obtuse 
of  the  girls  was  such  that  they  never  showed 
to  her  their  small  weaknesses ;  childish  bick- 
erings flickered  out  when  they  came  into  her 
presence.  And  Mademoiselle,  now  that  school 
had  opened,  was  so  sobered — and  stiffened — 
by  professional  responsibility  that  one  couldn't 
be  really  confidential  with  her  for  fear  it  would 
involve  her  in  some  admission  that  was  not 

85 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

quite  impartial.  Philippa  had  found  that  out 
after  having  once  been  guilty  of  an  outburst 
on  the  score  of  Margaret  Dixon.  After  see- 
ing how  embarrassed  Mademoiselle  had  been, 
Philippa  drew  back  into  her  shell,  a  little  hurt 
at  Mademoiselle's  attitude.  No,  there  was  no 
one  she  would  rely  on  but  just  herself. 

So  she  lived  for  those  first  days  an  isolated 
life.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  was 
without  the  soft,  warm  enfolding  of  her  own 
home  people,  the  invariable  balm  to  come  back 
to  after  any  little  sting  from  the  outside.  The 
first  rebuff  made  her  so  timid  about  making 
advances  that  she  made  no  more. 

In  some  ways  it  was  probably  good  for  her. 
Certainly,  she  poured  her  whole  force  into 
study.  Never  before,  perhaps,  in  her  gay 
little  existence  had  Philippa  put  all  of  herself, 
her  quick  wit,  her  vivid  imagination,  her  ca- 
pacity for  enthusiasm,  into  study.  The  most 
thrilling  part  of  her  life  had  always  been  out- 
side of  school  hours.  But  now,  without  this 
colorful  outside  life,  she  attacked  every  sub- 
ject with  zest;  her  bright  eyes  on  Madame 
and  her  lips  unconsciously  moving  as  Ma- 
dame spoke,  she  absorbed  her  accent;  she 
practiced  rolling  her  r's  when  she  was  dress- 

86 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

ing;  she  attacked  the  pile  of  books  on  her 
study  table  in  the  evening  with  appetite.  Dif- 
ficulties vanished  before  her.  After  several 
days  she  was  promoted  to  the  classes  in  gram- 
mar and  translation  with  girls  who  had  been 
studying  French  at  the  Chateau  for  two  years ; 
she  was  so  far  ahead  of  Margaret  Dixon  in 
algebra  that  the  teacher  assigned  her  extra 
problems  every  evening;  in  history  and  Eng- 
lish she  was  the  girl  to  whom  Miss  Shelby 
turned  when  everyone  else  had  failed  to  know 
the  answer  to  a  question. 

All  this  did  not  help  her  popularity  with  the 
other  girls.  Pretty  like  pink-and-white  Bertha 
Ross,  who  had  looked  at  her  with  a  very 
friendly  smile  when  they  were  first  introduced, 
now  shrank  back  with  something  like  awe  in 
her  eyes.  But  the  more  lonely  Philippa  was, 
the  more  fiery  was  the  zeal  with  which  she 
attacked  her  lessons. 

It  wasn't  long  before  this  interest  began 
apparently  to  fill  up  her  life.  The  routine  be- 
gan to  seem  pleasant.  At  the  end  of  the  first 
week  she  was  surprised  to  find  with  what 
satisfaction  she  went  to  bed  at  night,  the 
various  orderly  activities  of  the  day  done  up 
in  neat  packages,  as  it  were,  in  her  mind  and 
7  87 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

laid  away  in  the  neat  compartment  of  memory 
where  they  belonged.  In  the  morning,  after 
the  first  dismayed  conviction  that  it  really  was 
the  rising  bell  that  was  pounding  in  her  ears, 
after  the  grand  rush  to  get  her  bath  over,  and 
herself  into  her  school  uniform,  the  bureau 
and  washstand  put  in  order,  the  clothes  pulled 
off  the  bed  to  air,  everything  that  should  go 
back  in  the  closet  placed  there,  the  sounding  of 
the  breakfast  gong  was  distinctly  exhilarat- 
ing. She  sat  down  to  the  immaculate  break- 
fast table,  herself  in  shining  neatness,  with  the 
sensation  of  having  earned  the  repast  and 
being  abundantly  in  appetite  for  it.  After 
breakfast  the  never-failing  sweetness  of  morn- 
ing prayers  gilded  the  anticipation  of  the  day's 
work.  Then  came  the  problem  of  getting 
one's  bed  made  and  room  in  spotless  order, 
with  some  time  left  for  that  most  effective 
study  time  of  the  day  when  the  mind  was  at 
its  best  and  freshest.  Philippa  usually  left 
her  French  composition  for  that  time,  or  the 
most  complicated  algebra  example. 

The  orderly  succession  of  the  morning 
classes  brought  her  to  the  lunch  table  with  an 
appetite  that  made  eating  a  keen  pleasure. 
The  afternoon  brought  sight  translation, 

88 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

where  Philippa  particularly  shone.  Her 
imagination  made  her  mind  leap  ahead  with 
intuition  at  the  meaning  of  passages  that  were 
as  the  deadest  of  dead  languages  to  most  of 
the  other  girls.  Helen  Odell  occasionally  sur- 
passed her  there.  She  had  a  lazy  fashion  of 
lowering  her  eyes  to  the  book  that  promised 
careless  work.  Sometimes  it  was  so;  but  at 
other  times,  especially  when  the  text  spoke  of 
sentiment  or  emotion,  slow  fire  would  come 
into  her  long  leaf-brown  eyes  and  a  sort  of 
suffused  radiance  that  seemed  to  take  the  place 
of  red  in  her  cheeks,  and  she  would  trans- 
late with  an  ease  and  grace  and  fervor  that 
made  it  astonishingly  impressive.  Philippa 
often  wondered  about  this  girl  who  seemed  so 
aloof  from  all  the  others  and  yet  was  evidently 
not  lonely  as  Philippa  was.  She  seemed  to  be 
in  a  world  of  her  own  by  her  own  preference. 
The  conversation  class  was  at  once  the  most 
stimulating  and  the  most  difficult.  There  were 
always  so  many  things  that  she  wanted  to  talk 
about,  and  it  was  so  amazingly  hard  to  find 
the  French  words  to  clothe  them  in.  She  usu- 
ally came  out  of  that  class  quite  exhausted, 
glad  it  was  the  last  task  of  the  day,  and  en- 
tirely skeptical  of  Madame's  assurance  that 

89 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

sometime  she  would  find  herself  thinking  some 
thoughts  in  French. 

The  hour  of  exercise  when  the  whole 
school,  two  by  two,  filed  up  and  down  every 
street  in  the  little  town  with  Miss  Shelby  or 
Mademoiselle  at  the  head,  had  its  irksome 
features,  of  course.  It  seemed  so  silly  to  have 
to  go  tethered,  as  it  were;  and  the  effort  to 
speak  French  seemed  greater  out  of  doors. 
These  would  have  been  minor  drawbacks, 
however,  if  she  had  had  a  chum  with  whom 
she  could  have  laughed,  occasionally  gone 
hand  in  hand  as  she  saw  some  of  the  other 
girls  doing,  exchanged  eloquent  glances  over 
the  fall  coloring  of  the  fine  old  trees.  But, 
Philippa  having  no  special  friend,  her  partner 
was  apt  to  be  a  different  one  every  day,  and 
they  usually  had  surprisingly  little  to  say  to 
one  another.  The  walk  usually  intensified 
Philippa's  feeling  of  being  enveloped  in  a 
strange  new  isolation;  she  seemed  like  the 
only  person  in  this  new  world  who  had  no 
intimates. 

Still  there  was  the  pleasure  of  walking  and 
the  never-ending  interest  of  new  things,  quaint 
and  indescribably  foreign  to  anything  Phil- 
ippa had  ever  known.  And  the  sharp,  dry 

90 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

September  air  sent  one  back  so  eager  for  din- 
ner. Then  came  evening  prayers  when  Ma- 
dame's  voice  seemed  to  rest  on  each  one  of 
them  with  a  benediction  of  peace,  and,  later, 
the  eager  effort  to  get  all  of  one's  preparation 
for  the  next  day  done  in  study  hour.  That 
done,  who  can  describe  the  deliciousness  of 
the  first  stretching  out  in  bed,  the  relaxa- 
tion of  one's  whole  pleasantly  tired  young 
body  in  the  smoothly  taut,  fresh  sheets?  It 
seemed  a  pity  that  that  luxury  lasted  such  a 
tiny  interval  before  one  was  overtaken  by 
sleep. 

It  seemed  to  Philippa,  the  night  of  her  sec- 
ond Sunday  at  the  Chateau,  that  she  had  never 
quite  known  what  "Sunday"  meant  before. 
First,  the  rising  bell  was  a  whole  hour  later, 
so,  after  having  waked  at  the  usual  time,  there 
was  the  delightful  snuggling  back  into  bed 
for  a  whole  hour  longer  of  sleep.  Then  her 
eyes  fell  upon  that  Sunday  dress  which  her 
mother  had  told  her  was  to  be  so  important 
a  part  of  her  wardrobe  here,  but  which  Phil- 
ippa, used  to  wearing  her  best  frocks  at  any 
hour  of  any  day  of  the  week  when  festive 
things  happened,  had  been  skeptical  about. 
Now,  after  a  week  when  it  had  been  scrupu- 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

lously  saved,  she  knew  that  her  mother  was 
right,  and  the  sight  of  it,  spread  out  all  ready 
to  wear,  with  her  best  shoes  and  new  fall  hat 
and  kid  gloves  beside  it,  was  incentive  enough 
to  make  her  jump  out  of  bed  the  very  instant 
that  the  gong  finally  sounded.  Dressing  that 
morning  was  an  exciting  adventure  after  the 
monotony  of  the  week. 

Breakfast,  too,  was  different,  with  hot 
waffles  and  maple  syrup;  the  walk  to  church 
was  different  because  Mademoiselle  had  asked 
Philippa  to  go  with  her,  and  they  went  off 
separately,  not  waiting  for  the  usual  proces- 
sion of  girls.  Away  from  the  others  Made- 
moiselle was  as  dear  and  funny  as  she  had  been 
the  day  when  they  had  the  revel  over  the 
candy  box.  The  Church  of  England  service 
was  new  to  Philippa ;  the  very  English  accent 
of  the  rector  and  his  high-colored  English 
face  were  new  and  thrilling,  and  the  service 
had  its  dignified,  sometimes  surprisingly  emo- 
tional, appeal. 

"Do  you  know,  I  think  it's  so  nice  and  com- 
fortable to  say,  when  all  those  awfully  digni- 
fied-looking people — who  you  know  can  never 
have  done  anything  very  wrong — are  saying 
it  with  you,  'We  have  done  those  things  which 

92 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

we  ought  not  to  have  done  and  have  left  un- 
done those  things  which  we  ought  to  have 
done  and  there  is  no  health  in  us.'  It  takes  all 
the  sting  out  of  it  somehow,  and  yet  you  feel 
that  you  have  said  all  that  could  really  be 
expected  of  you,"  Philippa  confided  to  Made- 
moiselle on  their  way  home.  She  couldn't 
understand  why  Mademoiselle  thought  what 
she  had  said  was  so  funny. 

The  ineffable  peace  and  sunshine  of  that 
whole  day  were,  somehow,  unique  in  Phil- 
ippa's  experience,  and  so  remained  each  re- 
curring Sunday.  The  rapt  face  of  Madame, 
which  seemed  to  wear  a  radiance  as  if  it  were 
bathed  in  some  light  the  others  couldn't  see — 
a  light  that  always  brought  back  to  Philippa 
Mademoiselle's  "She  is  a  saint,  my  mother" — 
was  part  of  it ;  the  especially  good  dinner  with 
whipped  cream  in  the  dessert  and  the  table 
linen  especially  white  and  crisp,  the  rare  lei- 
sure of  the  afternoon  with  time  to  write  let- 
ters or  to  read  unscholastic  literature  propped 
up  on  the  bed  in  a  soft  rose-colored  dressing 
gown  with  warm,  rosy  bedroom  slippers  on 
one's  feet;  the  cheerful  suppertime  and  the 
short  evening  service,  of  music  chiefly,  in  the 
church.  It  was  then,  while  the  organ  dreamed 

93 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

away  into  a  silence  which  memory  made  seem 
melodious,  that  one  dared  to  admit  the 
softened  loveliness  of  thoughts  of  home.  Then 
she  asked  herself  whether  she  had  decided  to 
stay  in  Canada  or  go  home,  and  found  she 
was  not  ready  with  the  answer. 


CHAPTER  X 

MADAME'S  thought  had  been  a  happy 
one.  The  knowledge  that  she  could 
decide  whether  to  stay  or  to  leave  took  the 
sting  out  of  Philippa's  homesickness  and  gave 
her  a  detached,  rather  superior  feeling.  She 
could  observe,  with  the  impersonality  of  one 
who  might  leave  them  the  next  day,  how  dif- 
ferent these  girls  were  from  Anne  and  Vir- 
ginia, from  all  American  girls,  in  fact.  After 
a  few  days  she  concluded  they  were  all,  with 
two  or  three  exceptions,  after  much  the  same 
pattern  as  Effie  White  and  Margaret  Dixon, 
the  girl  across  the  hall.  Among  the  excep- 
tions was  a  girl  Philippa  was  sorry  for,  Flora 
Brundage,  who  seemed  to  cry  all  the  time,  and 
that  pretty  girl  named  Bertha  Ross,  who  had 
smiled  at  her  in  a  friendly  way.  There  was 
also,  of  course,  Helen  Odell. 

Early  one  morning  Philippa  was  running 
down  to  Madame's  French  composition  class 

95 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

when  Angelique,  a  wide  grin  upon  her  red 
face,  met  her  with  the  news  that  a  "handsome 
young  gentleman"  awaited  her  in  the  drawing 
room.  At  least  that  was  how  Philippa  had 
already  learned  to  translate  what  sounded  like 
"Un  b'en  beau  m'sieu"  She  added  that 
Madame  gave  permission  for  her  to  see  him. 
Margaret  Dixon,  who  happened  to  be  in 
the  hall  at  that  moment,  looked  at  her  with 
envy.  It  was  the  first  interest,  other  than 
an  unfriendly  one,  that  Margaret  had 
shown  her. 

"Surely  it  can't  be  Mr.  Ross  Cuthbert," 
thought  Philippa,  her  heart  beating  fast. 
"But  who  else  could  it  be ?" 

As  she  opened  the  door  a  tall  youth  jumped 
up. 

"Why,  Jeff  Randolph !"  The  faint  twinge 
of  disappointment  disappeared  in  the  joy  of 
seeing  anybody  from  home.  And  she  won- 
dered why  she  had  not  known  that  it  must  be 
Jeff. 

"I'm  going  to  school  here."  Jeff  grinned  as 
he  watched  for  the  effect  of  his  information. 

"Why,  of  course  I  knew  that."  Still  the 
shock  of  the  surprise  was  so  great  that  it  was 
some  moments  before  she  could  speak  calmly. 

96 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"How  in  the  world  did  it  happen  ?  You  hadn't 
any  idea  of  coming  when  I  left  home." 

"Well,  you  see,  Dad  has  got  to  be  away 
from  Washington  a  great  deal  this  session — 
short  session,  too.  Hadn't  heard  of  the  place 
then.  He  has  some  business  back  home  to 
look  after.  Legislation  is  coming  up  in  the 
Senate  that  they  want  special  information 
about — Dad's  chairman  of  that  committee. 
He'll  have  to  be  away  some  time  for  that. 
He  didn't  want  to  leave  me  alone  so  long  in 
the  house  with  just  the  servants.  No  reason 
in  that,  but  he  thought  there  was.  And  you 
know  I  need  a  modern  language  to  make  col- 
lege. When  your  mother  told  him  about  the 
French  here — though  she  said  she  didn't 
know  as  much  about  things  at  the  Boys' 
School,  as  at  the  Chateau,  he  decided  right  off 
the  bat." 

"That's  trick.  But "  It  was  on  the 

tip  of  Philippa's  tongue  to  tell  Jeff  she  might 
not  stay.  But,  somehow,  she  was  ashamed 
to  let  him  know  she  was  thinking  of  giving  up 
anything  she  had  begun.  Besides,  now  that 
Jeff  was  here,  perhaps  it  would  be  better  to 
stay  until  Christmas,  anyway.  Philippa  was 
surprised  at  her  own  excitement;  she  never 

97 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

remembered  having  been  particularly  thrilled 
about  seeing  Jeff  before.  She  was  so  used  to 
him  that  she  probably  had  not  ever  really 
looked  at  him.  Perhaps  the  unmistakable 
envy  on  Margaret  Dixon's  face  had  enhanced 
Jeff's  value;  perhaps  it  was  that  he  had  so 
lately  come  from  that  home  that  she  could 
still  hardly  trust  herself  to  think  about,  so 
sure  was  it  that  the  tears  of  longing  would 
come  into  her  eyes.  However  that  might  be, 
she  looked  at  Jeff  for  the  first  time  with  the 
eyes  with  which  she  might  have  observed 
some  interesting  young  stranger,  as,  for  ex- 
ample, she  had  looked  at  the  young  "Seig- 
neur" the  other  day. 

And,  really,  Jeff  seemed  worth  looking  at. 
There  was  an  extraordinarily  pleasant  ex- 
pectation upon  his  face,  an  eager  friendliness 
that  almost  brought  a  lump  to  her  throat;  it 
seemed  years  since  anyone  had  looked  at  her 
that  way.  Jeff  had  grown  very  tall  during 
the  last  year;  he  was  nearly  six  feet  at 
that  moment,  and  he  was  so  straight  and  so 
well  set  up  that  he  showed  very  little  of  the 
awkwardness  that  most  boys  who  have  sud- 
denly grown  enormously  betray.  He  certainly 
was  a  different  person  from  the  awkward  boy 

98 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

in  knickerbockers  whom  Philippa  had  cham- 
pioned two  years  before.  His  suit  was  so 
smart  and  so  becoming  that  Philippa  had  to 
caution  herself  that  it  would  be  "silly"  if  she 
were  to  feel  any  admiration  for  Jeff. 

"That's  just  because  it's  a  new  suit,"  she 
told  herself  cautiously.  "Just  wait  until  he 
gets  the  creases  out  of  the  trousers ;  he'll  look 
just  the  way  all  boys  do  then."  Although 
Jeff  was  almost  two  years  older  than  Philippa, 
she  had  begun  to  feel  that  he  was  too  youthful 
for  her  to  be  really  interested  in.  "Now  real 
young  men  can  wear  their  clothes  without 
having  them  look  as  if  they  had  been  crawling 
through  barbed  wire  fences  in  them.  That 
young  man  at  the  Manor  didn't  look  new  and 
dressed  up  the  way  Jeff  does  and  still  his 
clothes  looked  so  nice  and  smart  on  him." 

In  spite  of  all  this  and  of  her  determination 
not  to  "act  like  an  idiot,"  the  tears  did  come 
into  her  eyes  as  Jeff's  big  friendly  hand 
gripped  hers. 

Jeff's  keen  black  eyes  softened  while  he  told 
himself.  "Why  —  the  poor  —  little  —  kid ! 
She's  homesick  as  the  dickens.  And  she 
thinks  she's  hiding  it  from  her  Uncle  Jeff." 

"How's  every  little  old  thing  at  home?" 
99 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Philippa  started  to  ask  this  with  appropriate 
lightness ;  but,  halfway,  she  realized  her  dan- 
ger and  stopped  to  hide  her  brimming  eyes  in 
a  pretext  of  tying  her  shoe. 

"Oh— I  don't  know,'*  drawled  Jeff,  with  a 
negligent  air  that  he  was  far  from  feeling. 
"Rather  scratch  lot  out  for  the  eleven  at  the 
High  this  fall.  Made  me  so  sick  I  had  begun 
to  think  I'd  better  go  away  to  school  this  year 
when  we  heard  of  this  joint.  I  couldn't  quite 
go  over  to  any  of  the  others." 

"No,  of  course  not."  Philippa's  voice  was 
still  muffled  from  stooping  over.  "But — the 
girls?  Anne  'n'  Virginia?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know."  Jeff  was  ostenta- 
tiously negligent  again.  '  'Bout  the  same — 
I  never  was  crazy  about  them,  you  know." 

"They  haven't  written  yet.  I  suppose 
they're  busy.  There's  always  so  much  doing 
at  the  first  of  the  year." 

Jeff  felt  the  wistfulness  in  her  voice  and 
hastened  to  say : 

"Virginia  stopped  me  just  before  I  left  to 
tell  me  to  give  you  her  dearest  love  and  tell 
you  how  frightfully  she  missed  you.  I  guess 
she  does,  too "  Jeff  was  shrewdly  cal- 
culating that  perhaps  this  would  do  Philippa 

100 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

more  good  than  harm.  "Anne,  too.  But 
she's  pretty  much  excited  about  basket 
ball." 

"Oh,  Jeff,  if  I  had  stayed  home  I'd  have 
had  such  fun!"  Returning  composure  was 
threatened  again.  She  was  biting  her  lips 
nervously. 

"What  do  you  care?  Think  of  the  winter 
sports  here.  That's  what  brought  me. 
Snow-shoeing  and  tobogganing  and  skating — 
skiing,  too,  perhaps " 

"I  thought  it  was  French  and  Latin  your 
father  wanted  you  to  get  here,"  Philippa 
flashed  out,  so  far  herself  again  that  she  could 
tease. 

"Poor  little  kid,"  he  was  thinking  again. 
"She  must  have  been  lonesome.  It's  no  job 
at  all  to  cheer  her  up.  Just  somebody  from 
home.  Don't  wonder  at  all.  Remember 
how  the  Gales  took  hold  of  us  after  Mother 
died — rather  a  bum  fake  of  a  home  we  had 
for  a  while,  just  a  lot  of  servants  to  take  the 
place " 


'Look  here,  Pip 


Philippa  laughed  rosily  at  the  old  nick- 
name  

"What  kind  of  a  bunch  have  you  got  here 

IOI 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

anyway?  The  girl  I  saw  out  in  the  hall 
looked  like  a  dumb-bell — and — sort  of 
clumsy." 

Philippa  was  human  enough  to  feel  not 
unpleased  at  this.  But  she  answered  with 
propriety. 

"I  suppose  they're  all  right.  I  haven't 
really  got  acquainted  yet." 

"I  never  knew  it  to  take  you  long  to  get 
acquainted,"  Jeff  said  bluntly.  Then  he 
changed  the  subject.  "Haven't  had  a  chance 
to  give  the  guys  at  the  school  more  than  the 
once  over,"  he  said  meditatively.  "But  I 
think  I  have  their  number.  Our  state's  right 
on  the  Canadian  boundary,  you  know.  Two 
or  three  of  'em  are  inclined  to  get  gay.  I'll 
have  to  thrash  them  soon " 

"Oh,  Jeff,  fighting's  against  the  rules. 
And  they  don't  allow  hazing." 

Jeff's  black  eyes  sparkled  with  amusement. 

"No,  I  suppose  not,"  he  drawled.  "I'm 
sure  they're  all  plastered  over  with  rules 
there,  written  and  unwritten;  they  wouldn't 
be  kin  to  the  English  if  they  weren't.  And 
they'll  have  'forms'  instead  of  'grades.'  And 
'prefects'  and  all  that.  I  haven't  read  Tom 
Brown  at  Rugby  for  nothing.  And  the  head 

1 02 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

of  the  school  will  exhort  us  to  carry  on  the 
'school  spirit'  as  solemnly  as  if  we  were  Eton 
or  Harrow.  All  the  same  there  are  two  or 
three  guys  it's  destined  I'll  fight.  I  saw  them 
sizing  me  up.  There  isn't  a  school  that  a  new 
chap  can  come  into  especially  if  he's  a  little 
different  from  what  the  fellows  have  always 
been  accustomed  to,  where  he  isn't  hazed  in 
some  way — whether  they  call  it  hazing  or 
not.  They  hazed  me  down  at  the  Clifton 
Park  School,  didn't  they,  that  time  you  stood 
up  for  me  ?  and  it's  right  enough  that  it  should 
be  so.  You've  got  to  show  what  stuff  is  in 
you  when  you  go  away  from  people  who've 
always  known  you.  It  makes  you  take  stock 
of  yourself.  It  works  out  all  right  once 
you've  shown  them  that  you  can  stand  the 

gaff.     And "     He  carefully  gazed  into 

space  as  he  said  this,  "I  guess — in  a  few  hours 
somebody  will  punch  my  head  because  I  say 
T  guess' — but  I  do  guess  that  girls'  schools 
are  pretty  much  the  same.  And  they're  all 
right,  too.  Only,  Pip,  to  judge  by  that  speci- 
men I  saw,  you  can  put  it  all  over  them  in 
a  little  while?" 

"Why?"    asked    Philippa,    laughing    and 
dimpling.   (Who  could  have  helped  it?) 
8  103 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"What  you  wear  under  your  hat  when  you 
wear  one,"  he  responded  gravely.  "Although 
we  mustn't  be  too  cocksure,  either.  I  dare 
say  some  of  the  guys  at  the  school  will  put  it 
all  over  me  in  some  way  I'm  not  expecting. 
But — say — I've  got  to  go.  I  had  only  one 
hour  'out  of  bounds' — that's  what  they  call  it 
here,  and  I've  been  orating  fully  an  hour. 
Don't  know  what  does  make  me  so  conversa- 
tional. Will  you  please  give  these  letters  from 
my  dad  and  your  mother  to  the  lady  who 
runs  this  joint?" 

"What  are  they?"  Philippa  was  mystified. 

"My  references,  I  suppose."  Jeff's  eyes 
danced.  Then  he  burst  out  laughing.  "I 
say,  Pip,  isn't  it  a  good  one?  Our  parents 
have  to  respectfully  crave  permission  of  your 
lady-boss  here  for  you  and  me  to  see  each 
other  once  in  a  while  without  having  a  teacher 
present.  As  if  we  hadn't  been  pals  for  years ! 
I  think  your  mother  had  to  put  all  the  separate 
items  in  it.  She  certainly  is  a  dandy;  she 
thought  of  everything:  rowing,  walking,  see- 
ing you  in  the  'drawing  room.'  Now,  you'd 
better  be  careful  how  you  treat  me.  Don't 
you  dare  be  impertinent  to  me,  as  you've  been 
sometimes.  And  if  you  quarrel  with  me 
104 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

maybe  you'll  lose  me.  I'm  a  Privilege  now 
Oh  you  Convent  Girl !" 

They  both  broke  into  satisfying  laughter 
which  became  almost  hysterical  on  Philippa's 
part  as  she  felt  the  unnatural  bonds  that  had 
been  about  her  dropping  off.  She  laughed  and 
laughed  until  Jeff  began  to  look  at  her  with 
anxiety  in  his  friendly  eyes.  At  last,  wiping 
her  eyes  without  any  embarrassment  this  time 
— since  the  tears  came  from  an  excess  of 
mirth  instead  of  from  a  homesick  little  heart 
— she  said: 

"Oh,  Jeff,  when  were  you  so  exciting 
before?" 

"All  right  for  you,"  said  Jeff,  too  well 
pleased  with  his  work  to  be  sensitive.  "I've 
got  to  be  going.  But  remember.  A  reward 
is  before  you  if  you  take  your  hazing  like  a 
nice  little  lady." 


CHAPTER  XI 

AS  Philippa  hurried  up  to  her  room  at  the 
.*!  end  of  the  first  class,  Margaret  Dixon 
was  going  the  same  way.  Very  sur- 
prisingly Margaret  stopped  and  spoke  to 
her. 

"That  was  a  nice-looking  boy.  I  didn't 
know  you  had  a  friend  at  the  Boys'  School." 

"Didn't  you  ?"  It  wasn't  a  brilliant  answer 
but  Philippa  really  didn't  know  what  else  to 
reply.  It  surely  wasn't  very  surprising  that 
Margaret  didn't  know.  Conversation  cer- 
tainly had  not  been  encouraged. 

"Why  was  he  allowed  to  come  to  see  you  ? 
That  isn't  usual.  Especially  when  the  boy  is 
at  the  school  here." 

Philippa  was  wondering  whether  she  ought 
to  say  something  that  would  make  the  girl 
realize  how  impertinent  she  was.  But  she 
remembered  what  Jeff  had  said  about  hazing, 
and  how  good-natured  he  had  been  about  it. 
106 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Moreover,  with  those  round  eyes  on  her  a 
thought  struck  her. 

"Maybe  it's  just  because  she's  dull.  She 
doesn't  know  how  rude  it  is  to  cross-question 
people  like  this."  It  all  began  to  seem  funny 
and  Philippa's  bright  eyes  danced  in  amuse- 
ment. "But  why  should  she  be  so  much  in- 
terested?" Wondering  as  she  was,  Philippa 
answered  demurely. 

"He  is  a  great  friend  of  ours  from  home." 

"That  doesn't  usually  make  any  difference. 
The  girls  often  have  friends  there  but  they 
are  not  allowed  to  have  them  call." 

There  apparently  being  no  answer  to  this, 
Philippa  made  none.  She  was  going  on  when 
Margaret  stopped  her. 

"I'd  like  to  meet  your  friend  if  you  get  a 
chance  to  introduce  me,"  she  said  calmly. 
"I'll  do  something  for  you  some  time  if  you 
do." 

Philippa  stood  still  a  moment  and  watched 
her  as  she  walked  away. 

"I  don't  believe  she  realizes  there's  any- 
thing queer  about  it  at  all,"  she  thought,  with 
a  sort  of  awe.  "She  just  wants  to  meet  Jeff 
and  she  doesn't  mind  my  knowing  it.  First, 
she  wanted  to  be  disagreeable  to  me  and  she 
107 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

was.  And  she  didn't  have  any  feeling  about 
that,  either.  It  didn't  hurt  her  to  be  disagree- 
able; she  rather  enjoyed  it.  She  would  be 
disagreeable  now  but  she  wants  something  of 
me.  So  she  had  to  speak  and  stop  being  dis- 
agreeable. When  she  wants  a  thing  she  just 
goes  right  out  for  it  without  being  mortified 
at  herself  at  all.  I'll  bet  you  can  accomplish 
a  lot  if  you're  that  way.  And  she  offers  me 
something  in  exchange— it's  a  sort  of  bar- 
gain. And  she'd  keep  her  word,  too.  I  be- 
lieve she  would.  Gosh,  but  she's  queer !" 

When  Philippa  joined  her  next  class  every- 
one of  the  girls  in  it,  but  Helen  Odell,  looked 
at  her  with  a  new  interest  mixed  with  envy. 

"They've  been  told  already,"  she  thought. 
She  couldn't  help  being  amused,  but  possibly 
this  didn't  make  her  admire  them  any  more. 
She  felt  a  little  bit  superior  even  to  pretty 
Bertha  Ross,  toward  whom  she  had  felt 
drawn. 

In  consequence  of  this,  perhaps,  her  atten- 
tion turned  more  than  usual  to  Helen  Odell, 
who,  to  tell  the  truth,  had  a  sort  of  fascina- 
tion for  Philippa.  The  something  oriental 
and  mysterious  about  the  long  dreamy  eyes 
and  the  hint  of  slumbering  fire  in  her  always 

1 08 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

aroused  Philippa's  imagination;  and  the  un- 
explained incident  when  Philippa,  an  unwill- 
ing eavesdropper,  had  seen  her  on  the  shore 
of  the  Little  River  with  a  man  who  had  never 
been  referred  to  by  anybody,  recurred  again 
and  again  and  always  accompanied  by  an  un- 
easy sort  of  curiosity.  Her  clothing,  too,  put 
her  on  a  different  footing  from  the  other  girls. 
She  did  not  wear  the  school  uniforms;  and 
her  frocks,  simple  in  line  although  they  might 
be,  had  always  a  hint  of  magnificence  about 
them,  even  though  it  might  be  in  nothing 
more  than  a  bit  of  unusually  gorgeous  em- 
broidery. As  she  had  been  graduated  from 
the  school  the  year  before,  she  was  a  sort  of 
"parlor  boarder" ;  she  attended  the  classes  in 
which  she  was  especially  interested  very  much 
as  she  chose. 

Yet  something  gave  Philippa  the  impres- 
sion that  Madame  really  had  Helen  Odell  on 
her  mind  more  than  any  other  girl  in  the 
school.  Perhaps  it  was  because  of  a  little 
incident  that  had  happened  the  first  week. 
One  morning  when  Angelique  was  taking  the 
mail  down  to  the  postoffice  she  carefully 
selected  certain  letters  from  the  bag  and  took 
them  to  Madame.  Philippa,  who  was  pass- 
109 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

ing  Madame's  room,  saw  her  looking  the  let- 
ters over  anxiously.  As  she  came  to  the  end 
of  them  her  face  cleared. 

"C'est  tout  comme  il  faut,  Angelique,"  she 
said,  too  fast  for  Philippa  to  follow,  but  the 
relief  in  her  face  made  it  clear  that  she  had 
said  something  was  all  right.  Even  at  the 
distance  at  which  she  stood  Philippa  could  not 
avoid  recognizing  the  very  individual  hand- 
writing on  the  letters  that  Angelique  put 
back  into  the  mail  bag;  she  had  seen  Helen 
Qdell's  heavy,  free  penmanship  on  too  many 
written  exercises  to  mistake  it  now,  and  the 
peculiar  violet  ink  which  she  affected.  This 
little  episode  had  always  stuck  in  Philippa's 
memory. 

On  this  day,  as  they  left  the  class  together, 
Philippa  felt  moved  to  speak. 

"I  don't  know  how  you  thought  of  that 
translation  of  that  last  paragraph,"  she  said. 
"I  puzzled  over  it  for  the  longest  time  and 
couldn't  make  sense  of  it." 

Miss  Odell  turned  with  a  smile  of  lazy 
charm. 

"But  I've  had  so  much  more  French  than 
you.  I  ought  to  do  better — even  if  you  are 
one  of  those  clever  Americans." 

no 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Her  face  and  voice  were  alike  delightful 
and  Philippa  was  immediately  fascinated. 

"I  can't  tell  you  how  nice  it  is  to  have  you 
say  something  pleasant,"  she  said  impulsively. 
"I  think  you're  the  first  girl  here  who  has 
been  friendly." 

"Fearfully  afraid  we  Canadians  are  of  tak- 
ing the  first  step,"  she  laughed.  "But,  you 
see,  I'm  almost  an  old  lady  compared  with  the 
other  girls.  I'm  almost  twenty.  Why  don't 
you  come  in  to  see  me  this  evening  during 
study-hour  ?" 

"Oh,  I'd  love  to But  aren't  we  sup- 
posed to  be  in  our  rooms  then?" 

"Oh,  yes,  of  course.  How  stupid  of  me 
not  to  think  of  that.  You  see,  I'm  not  ex- 
actly a  regular  student  here  and  I  suppose  I 
take  all  the  liberty  I  can  with  the  rules.  Come 

before  study-hour,  then But  it's  a 

frightful  pity.  It's  so  much  more  fun  to  talk 
when  you  ought  not  to." 

All  the  rest  of  the  day  Philippa's  thought 
was  far  more  full  of  the  coming  talk  with 
this  girl  than  with  Jeff's  arrival.  Before  this 
she  had  somehow  escaped  the  usual  school 
girl  "crushes."  She  had  had  warm  friend- 
ships with  Anne  and  Virginia,  but  the  species 
in 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

of  sentimental  adoration  that  girls  are  apt  to 
experience  for  some  slightly  older  girl  or 
woman — a  teacher  often — she  had  never  been 
a  victim  to.  But  now,  somehow,  this  girl  who 
carried  with  her  a  warm  haze  of  emotion 
completely  captivated  Philippa's  fancy. 
When,  across  the  dinner  table,  they  ex- 
changed friendly  glances  Philippa  tingled 
with  pleasure. 

So  when,  almost  immediately  after  evening 
prayers,  she  hurried  to  Miss  Odell's  room,  her 
heart  was  beating  hard  with  a  sort  of  excite- 
ment. The  whole  aspect  of  things  had 
changed.  The  one  girl  in  the  school  whom 
she  admired  wanted  to  make  friends  with  her. 
Very  few  of  the  girls,  apparently,  were  in- 
vited to  Miss  Odell's  room;  Philippa  had 
never  seen  anyone  frequent  it.  Apparently 
this  girl  lived  in  as  great  isolation  as  Philippa 
had  done,  only,  with  her,  no  one  could  doubt 
that  it  was  from  choice. 

"And  she  wants  me  to  come  to  see  her," 
thought  Philippa  exultantly.  "And  I  know 
she's  going  to  tell  me  all  sorts  of  interesting 
things.  You  can  just  feel  that  she  has  been 
places  and  done  things  and  read  ever  so  much. 
How  sweet  of  her  it  is  to  be  nice  to  me!" 

112 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Her  heart  beat  high  with  a  generous  emotion. 
"I'd  just  love  to  do  something  for  her !" 

She  tapped  on  Miss  Odell's  door.  There 
was  a  musical,  "Come  in."  As  she  opened 
the  door  Philippa  got  a  confused  idea  of  there 
being  much  in  it,  of  color,  pictures,  cushions, 
fragrance,  so  much  more  than  in  any  of  the 
other  fastidiously  simple  rooms.  A  rich 
piece  of  Oriental  drapery  of  some  sort  was 
thrown  over  the  bed;  it  was  heavy  with  em- 
broidery. The  bed  was  heaped  with  cushions. 
In  the  midst  of  them  Helen  Odell  lay  in  a 
beautiful  luxury  of  comfort.  She  stretched 
out  a  warm  white  hand  and,  smiling,  pulled 
Philippa  down  beside  her. 

"And  now  let's  talk,"  she  said. 


CHAPTER  XII 

A  BOUT  a  week  after  Philippa's  first  inti- 
^j[  mate  talk  with  Helen  Odell  the  girls' 
school  was  out  for  one  of  its  dutiful  afternoon 
walks.  Mademoiselle  headed  the  procession 
and  Philippa,  at  her  side,  was  rejoicing  in 
much  talk.  It  was  not  only  that  Mademoi- 
selle invited  her  to  chatter  as  much  as  she 
pleased.  It  was  beginning  to  be  much 
easier  to  carry  on  a  conversation  in  French. 
Moreover,  her  general  constraint  was  wear- 
ing off.  While  she  did  not  feel  that  any 
of  the  girls  except  Helen  Odell  were  her 
friends,  that  one  friendship  had  banished 
for  good  the  hideous  sensation  of  being  set 
apart  and  solitary  that  had  made  the  first 
days  at  the  Chateau  almost  too  hard  to 
bear. 

For  one  thing,  Jeff  was  proving,  with  other 
girls  beside  Margaret  Dixon,  a  subject  of 
acute  interest.  One  by  one  they  approached 
114 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Philippa  to  ask  some  question  about  him — 
how  old  he  was — how  long  she  had  known 
him — how  he  happened  to  come  to  the  Boys' 
School. 

"Gosh,  I  didn't  know  just  being  a  boy  was 
such  an  important  thing  before,"  thought 
Philippa.  "I  wonder  if  it  is  because  Jeff  is 
so  fascinating  or  whether  it  is  just  because 
being  at  a  girls'  school  and  kept  away  from 
boys  makes  them  seem  mysterious  and 
valuable." 

This  subject  came  into  her  thoughts  as  she 
walked  along  with  Mademoiselle  and  the  next 
step  was,  of  course,  to  put  the  question  to  her. 
Mademoiselle's  cheek,  pinker  than  ever  in  the 
sharp  air,  dimpled  with  amusement.  But  she 
spoke  demurely. 

"Are  girls,  then,"  she  said — in  French,  of 
course,  "not  in  the  least  interested  in  boys  in 
Washington,  D.  C,  of  the  United  States  ?  It 
must  be  that  indeed  a  quite  superior  race  is 
being  developed  there." 

Philippa  laughed.    Then  she  reflected. 

"Some  of  the  girls  are  getting  mushy,"  she 
said  at  last,  reluctantly.  But  Anne  'n'  Vir- 
ginia 'n'  I  don't  go  with  them." 

"Is  it  not  that  they  may  be  older  ?  At  fif- 
"5 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

teen  one  is  not  yet  very  old.  One  has  not  yet 
experienced  all  things." 

"Yes But,"  Philippa  began,  and 

then  she  had  to  laugh.  "But  it  must  be  dif- 
ferent when  girls  are  old  enough,  and  when 
it's  a  man  instead  of  just  a  boy." 

Somehow  this  silenced  them  both  for  a 
moment. 

"Do  you  find  yourself  very  good  friends 
with  Helen  Odell?"  Mademoiselle  asked  at 
last,  rather  constrainedly. 

Philippa  jumped.  Oddly  enough,  it  was 
of  Mademoiselle  herself  that  she  had  been 
thinking.  For  the  first  time  it  had  occurred 
to  her  to  wonder  why  Mademoiselle  Mimi,  so 
pretty  and  so  fascinating  and  merry,  was 
neither  married  nor  apparently  about  to  be 
married.  For  she  must  be — over  twenty,  at 
the  least !  So  she  was  confused  and  stumbled 
a  bit  in  answering  Mademoiselle's  question. 

"Why — yes — I  think  so.  She  asks  me  to 
come  to  her  room  and  all.  I — think  she  likes 
me." 

"She  is  a  very  fascinating  girl,  I  think. 
Do  you  not  think  so  also?" 

"Yes,  indeed."  There  was  no  mistaking 
the  heartiness  of  Philippa's  tone.  "And  I 

116 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

think   she's   pretty — oh — more  than   pretty. 

She  doesn't  seem She's  like  somebody 

you  read  about  in  a  book "     Philippa 

stumbled  along,  utterly  unable  to  put  her  feel- 
ing into  words. 

"I  know  what  you  mean,"  said  Mademoi- 
selle quietly.  "Does  she  talk  to  you  very 
much?"  She  turned  her  head  and  looked 
straight  in  Philippa's  eyes  as  she  asked  this. 

For  some  reason  the  girl  blushed.  Then, 
just  as  the  silly  blush  would  have  faded  she 
got  furious  at  herself  for  being  so  silly.  And 
that  made  her  scarlet. 

"Why,  yes,  Mademoiselle  Mimi.  She  has 
talked  to  me  a  good  deal.  Ordinarily  Phil- 
ippa would  have  followed  this  with  a  "Why?" 
But  this  time  she  did  not. 

"I  think  you  would  do  much  for  a  friend. 

Has  she "  Mademoiselle  began.     Then 

she  stopped  and  turned  her  head  away  from 
Philippa  a  long  time,  thinking.  When  she 
spoke  again  it  was  of  the  wonderful  fall 
coloring  of  the  sugar  maples  they  were 
passing. 

But  her  silence  did  not  end  the  subject  of 
Helen     Odell     in     Philippa's     mind.     Her 
troubled  look  lasted  for  a  long  time. 
117 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

The  stillness  was  beginning  to  be  embar- 
rassing when  a  sort  of  ripple  of  excitement 
that  ran  along  the  line  of  girls  made  her 
realize  that  something  was  happening.  Half 
a  block  ahead  of  them  was  a  young  man  strid- 
ing easily  along.  It  was  clear  he  was  an  Eng- 
lishman ;  no  one  else  ever  wore  brown  tweeds 
like  those  or  wore  them  in  the  same  way. 

"His  clothes  look  as  if  they  had  never  been 
new  and  would  never  be  old,"  Philippa  had 
said  triumphantly  to  Mademoiselle,  proud  of 
having  got  just  the  idea  in  her  head  into 
words  when  a  curious  expression  on 
Mademoiselle's  face  of  being  resolute  that 
she  would  not  be  excited  made  her  look  more 
closely  at  the  young  man.  It  was  the  young 
Seigneur,  Mr.  Ross  Cuthbert.  Then  Phil- 
ippa forgot  Mademoiselle  in  being  a  little  ex- 
cited herself. 

"I  wonder  if  he  will  recognize  me  in  all 
this  mess  of  girls,"  she  thought.  She  uncon- 
sciously prepared  her  face  for  a  recognizing 
smile. 

Her  trouble  was  entirely  thrown  away. 
There  was  a  smile  on  Mr.  Cuthbert's  face,  it 
is  true,  but  it  was  a  general,  rather  amused 
one,  as  if  the  sight  of  the  column  of  chatter- 

118 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

ing  girls  had  a  humorous  aspect  for  him.  But 
when  his  eyes  fell  on  Mademoiselle  the  smile 
vanished.  With  an  effect  of  desperate  haste, 
his  eyes  on  Mademoiselle,  he  took  off  his  hat. 
He  wavered  as  though  he  would  stop.  But 
the  line  of  girls — giggling  now — some  of 
them — for  the  young  Seigneur  was  a  great 
figure  in  their  life — passed  on.  Out  of  the 
tail  of  her  eye  Philippa  could  see  that  he  was 
absentmindedly  holding  his  hat  in  his  hand. 

"I  didn't  know  real  young  men  got  fussed 
just  because  they  met  girls,"  thought  Philippa, 
acutely  disappointed.  The  idea  didn't  fit  in 
with  her  picture  of  a  Seigneur;  the  negli- 
gent ease  of  his  approach  was  more  in  keep- 
ing. She  was  turning  to  Mademoiselle  with 
this  confidence  when  something  on  her  face 
stopped  the  words.  Mademoiselle  didn't  look 
as  if  she  wanted  anyone  to  talk  to  her. 

"I  wonder  why  Madame  doesn't  like  him," 
Philippa  thought.  "And  I  wonder  whether 
Mademoiselle  does  or  doesn't.  7  like  him, 
anyway.  It  is  so  interesting  to  talk  to  a  young 
man  like  that.  I  suppose  it  is  because  you 
really  learn  something."  But  Philippa's 
thoughts  as  she  walked  on  were  very  much 
more  about  the  fascination  of  Mr.  Ross  Cuth- 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

bert's  easy,  superior  air  and  how  becoming 
the  brown  tweeds  were  to  his  tawny  hair  than 
on  any  of  the  information  she  had  derived 
from  his  conversation. 

Again  a  flutter  indicative  of  an  increased 
interest  in  life  ran  down  the  line  of  girls. 
Philippa  felt  it,  although  no  word  was  said, 
and  looked  about  her  for  an  explanation. 

"Oh,  we're  coming  near  the  Boys'  School," 
she  thought,  with  a  highly  superior  and  re- 
mote amusement.  "I  don't  see  how  anyone 
can  get  excited  about  just  boys.  If  they  had 
had  the  wads  of  them  about  that  we  did  at 
the  Clifton  Park  School  and  High  School  they 
wouldn't — I  wonder  if  that  is  Jeff  coming  out 
of  the  door!  If  it  isn't  that  crazy  Boulden 
boy  who  is  with  him!  Gosh,  but  that  is  a 
good-looking  suit  of  Jeff's.  It  must  have 
been  made  to  order  at  a  tailor's.  I  never 
knew  that  Jeff  was  good-looking  before.  I 
suppose  some  of  the  girls  are  going  to  get 
mushy  about  him — I'm  going  to  tell  Jeff  he 
must  make  that  Boulden  boy  stop  looking  at 
me  like  that.  It's  too  silly." 

"That  Boulden  boy"  had  already  created  a 
reputation  among  the  girls  by  his  persistent 
staring  at  Philippa  when  he  had  met  the  girls 

120 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

from  the  Chateau  on  the  street.  So  now  they 
all  tried  to  catch  Philippa's  attention  with 
meaning  glances.  Between  pleasure  at  the 
flattery  and  rage  because  of  the  unworthy 
occasion  of  it  Philippa  felt  her  face  grow  hot. 
The  very  becoming  flush  deepened  as  they  ap- 
proached the  boys.  But  when  Boulden  gal- 
lantly raising  his  hat  with  one  hand,  with  the 
other  deftly  slipped  a  folded  bit  of  paper  into 
her  gloved  hand,  she  fairly  turned  white  with 
astonishment  and  embarrassment.  The  next 
minute,  however,  she  began  to  shake  with 
laughter. 

"Oh,  Mademoiselle,  look  what  that  boy 
did,"  she  cried  out,  holding  the  note  up  for 
Mademoiselle's  inspection. 

Mademoiselle  darted  a  surprised  look  at 
the  girl.  But  she  offered  no  remark. 

"If  she  gives  it  to  me  without  opening  it," 
her  thoughts  ran,  "I  shall  have  to  wonder 
at  her — and  then  I  am  afraid  I  shall  not  like 
her  so  well.  She  would  then  not  be  human." 

But  Philippa  was  opening  the  note.  And 
she  giggled  outright,  although  the  expression 
on  her  face  was  far  from  a  displeased  one. 

"He's  such  an  egg,"  she  said,  sticking  the 
note  in  her  pocketbook.  "Think  of  taking  all 
121 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

that  trouble  just  to  tell  a  girl  you  would  like 
to  be  introduced  to  her." 

The  girls  were  eying  Mademoiselle  ex- 
pectantly. She  looked  undecided. 

"It  is  the  usual  thing  in  such  a  case  that  the 
note  be  given  to  the  teacher,"  she  said. 

"Oh,  I  shouldn't  like  that — it  doesn't  seem 
quite  fair  to  him — although  it  was  a  silly 
thing  for  him  to  do.  I  mean,  I  wouldn't 
exactly  like  to  be  the  one  to  tell  on  him,  you 
know.  It's  horrid  to  tell  on  people.  It 
makes  me  feel  like  a  worm  for  blabbing  it  out. 
But  will  I  have  to  give  you  the  note — it  makes 
me  feel  like  a  monitor — I  always  used  to  hate 
to  be  monitor." 

Mademoiselle's  eyes  were  on  Philippa's 
distressed  face. 

"You  say  that  all  he  said  was  that  he 
wanted  to  meet  you?"  she  asked.  "There 
was  nothing  else?" 

"No,  not  a  word.  And  he  called  me  'Miss 
Gale.' '  Philippa  broke  into  smiles  again  at 
that.  Then  the  smile  became  a  laugh  and 
then  everybody  laughed,  all  down  the  line, 
Mademoiselle  as  well  as  the  girls. 

"Oh,  well,  I  will  report  the  occurrence  to 
Madame,"  said  Mademoiselle,  as  soon  as  she 

122 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

could  speak  with  proper  primness.  "And, 
unless  she  feels  that  she  must  insist  on  see- 
ing the  young  man's  note,  I  think  it  will  not 
be  necessary  to  take  any  action." 

As  they  were  running  upstairs  to  take  off 
their  wraps  a  little  cluster  of  the  older  girls 
gathered  about  Philippa. 

"Weren't  you  an  idiot  to  let  her  see  the 
note,"  said  Effie  White.  "I  should  think  any 
boy  would  think  twice  before  he  slipped  a  note 
to  you,  if  that's  the  way  you  act." 

Margaret  Dixon,  who  was  stalking  on 
ahead  in  her  solid,  flat-footed  way,  turned 
back,  the  better  to  pronounce  judgment. 

"I  think  Miss  Gale  was  quite  right,"  she, 
most  unexpectedly,  said.  "I  hate  sneaky 
ways.  If  I  want  a  thing  I  come  right  out 
and  say  it.  And  if  I  don't  want  it,  I  say  that, 
too."  And  without  another  word  and  with- 
out more  than  a  solemn,  passing  glance  at 
Philippa,  she  stalked  on. 

"I'll  say  you  do,"  Philippa  said  to  herself, 
laughing.  But  the  incident  gave  her  a  com- 
fortable sort  of  feeling.  It  didn't  seem  un- 
pleasant to  have  Margaret  Dixon  on  her  side. 
Then,  all  at  once,  a  thought  came  to  her  that 
made  her  wince. 

123 


CHAPTER  XIII 

A  T  morning  prayers,  two  days  later,  all 
AM*  the  girls  realized  that  something  was 
troubling  Madame.  They  would  have  been 
puzzled  to  explain  why  they  felt  this.  Her 
voice  was  the  same ;  her  smile,  when  they  met 
her  eyes,  the  same.  There  was  always 
at  these  times  a  sort  of  happy,  peaceful 
remoteness  which  made  them  feel  a  sort 
of  awe  of  her.  To-day  there  was  neither 
more  nor  less  remoteness,  although,  possibly, 
the  happiness  and  peace  were  submerged  by 
something  more  immediate  and  exacting. 
Although  the  little  service  went  on  as  usual 
there  was  a  sense  of  something  painful 
pending. 

Philippa,  from  her  seat  in  the  row  immedi- 
ately in  front  of  Madame,  watched  her  un- 
easily. When  she  looked  around  the  room 
and  noticed  that  Helen  Odell  was  not  there — 
that,  too,  in  spite  of  Helen's  frequent 

124 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

absences,  seemed  threatening  to  her.  Phil- 
ippa  had  not  had  any  talk  with  her  for  two 
or  three  days.  Did  it  mean  anything  that 
Madame's  simple  little  prayer  put  special 
stress  on  aspirations  for  perfect  truthfulness 
and  sincerity  ? 

The  prayer  was  over,  the  second  "cantique" 
sung — "cantique"  somehow  seemed  to  imply 
something  much  more  religiously  beauti- 
ful than  "hymn" — but  the  sense  of  suspense 
continued.  And  when  Madame,  instead 
of  nodding  dismissal  with  grave  sweetness, 
motioned  the  girls  to  be  seated  again,  they 
all  knew  that  there  was  reason  for  their 
fear  that  something  painful  was  to  be 
expected. 

There  was  no  preamble  and  Madame  spoke 
in  English.  That,  again,  was  a  sign  that  she 
had  something  to  say  to  them  which  must 
not  be  misunderstood.  It  was  only  on  the 
gravest  occasions  that  Madame  used  English 
in  her  announcements  to  the  school.  Yet  the 
fact  that,  instead  of  the  English  word,  she 
called  them  "mes  enfants"  throughout,  which 
made  her  words,  somehow,  more  tenderly  ap- 
pealing than  if  she  had  said,  "My  children." 

"There  has  been  something  to  trouble  me 

125 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

much,  mes  enfants.  It  has  now  reached  that 
point  where  it  is  necessary  that  I  make  pub- 
lic what  I  would  wish  could  be  unsaid.  It  is 
that  a  superior  obligation  compels  it." 

Here  she  paused  and  surveyed  them  in 
silence  a  moment  as  if  she  found  it  hard  to 
go  on. 

"There  is  one  in  the  Chateau,  although  she 
is  not  to-day  in  this  room,  who  was  confided 
to  me  by  her  father  and  mother — of  whom 
she  is  the  only  child — on  the  condition  that 
she  should  not  be  allowed  to  write  letters,  or 
receive  them  again  in  turn,  from  eun  tel  mon- 
sieur' a  certain  gentleman,  I  would  say, 
whose  name  they  gave  me.  'Hugh  Ditmer' 
is  the  name  of  that — man.  I  would  not 
have  undertaken  such  a  trust  if  they  had 
not  told  me  such  things  of  this  Hugh 
Ditmer  that  I  was  convinced  it  would  be  a 
wretchedness  for  her,  Helen  Odell,  to  marry 
him." 

Philippa,  looking  about  her  with  a  sense  of 
shock,  was  amazed  to  see  that  the  girls,  in- 
stead of  being  amazed  at  Madame's  words, 
were  looking  at  each  other  knowingly.  "So 
they  knew,  too,"  she  thought  to  herself.  "She 
has  talked  to  others.  But  I  don't  think  The 

126 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Castle  of  Liberty'  is  the  right  name  for  this 
place." 

"It  is  not  necessary  that  I  tell  you,  mes 
enfants,  of  these  things.  The  very  least  fault 
of  which  they  had  proof  was  that  this  Hugh 
Ditmer  loved  the  fortune  that  he  thought 

Helen  would  one  day  possess.  But there 

were  other  things  it  is  not  possible  for  you 
who  are  but  bien  petit es  enfants  to  know  how 
a  man  may  be  cruel."  At  the  last  word  her 
mouth  made  a  blanched  round  of  horror.  It 
was  momentarily  only,  but  Philippa  never  for- 
got it ;  it  set  her  mind  wondering.  But,  more 
than  that,  it  made  what  followed  so  con- 
vincing that  it  was  not  for  a  moment  to  be 
questioned.  "It  was  because  I,  myself,  who 
loved  Helen,  would  save  her  from  what  I 
knew  would  be  unhappiness  that  I  consented 
to  watch  that  no  harm  came  to  her  until  that 
time  should  come  when  she  would  know  that 
we  who  were  older  knew  what  was  best  for 
her. 

"In  the  last  week  it  has  been  made  plain  to 
these  parents  that  messages  have  been  ex- 
changed between  this  man  and  Helen.  It  is 
certain  that  this  is  so,  although  it  is  not  clear 
by  what  means.  Thus  I  appeal  to  you,  mes 
127 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

enfant s,  that  you  search  your  hearts  and  con- 
sciences and  tell  me  which  one  of  you  has  done 
this.  It  could  not  have  been  the  servants,  for, 
in  this  busy  time,  no  one  of  them  has  been 
away  from  the  house  except  to  the  mass — on 
a  day  when  the  mails  are  not  open.  It  would 
seem  certain  that  some  one  of  you  has  put 
some  letter  of  hers  among  your  own.  It  is 
not  a  grave  sin ;  it  would  be  natural,  perhaps, 
for  you  to  feel  sympathy  with  her  and  do 
what  she  has  asked  you.  I  ask  that  you  will 
tell  me  what  you  have  done  so  we  may  guard 
one  of  our  number  from  harm." 

She  stood,  white  with  the  evident  effort  she 
had  made,  but  confident,  waiting  for  a  con- 
fession to  be  made.  There  was  a  terrible 
silence.  It  was  so  overpowering  that  Phil- 
ippa  did  not  dare  to  raise  her  head  and  look 
around.  She  did  not  dare  to  raise  her  eyes, 
either,  to  Madame's. 

Nobody  spoke.  Some  of  the  girls  were 
looking  about  to  surprise  a  sign  of  guilt  from 
some  other  face ;  others  were  staring  straight 
at  Mademoiselle,  as  if  to  convince  her  of  their 
guiltlessness.  Everyone  was  profoundly 
serious.  Flora  Brundage,  who  always  wept 
at  everything,  began  to  weep  from  the  strain, 
128 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

and  so  did  the  younger  Turner  sister.  But 
still  nobody  spoke.  The  silence  became  unen- 
durable. Madame  grew  whiter  and  whiter; 
her  soft  little  mouth  was  compressed  almost 
scornfully ;  but  her  eyes  were  full  of  grief. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

"\JOTHING  more  was  said  about  Helen 
1  V  Odell.  Classes  began  immediately. 
Perhaps  it  was  because  of  this ;  perhaps  it  was 
because  Madame' s  manner  had  overawed  the 
girls;  perhaps  it  was  because  Philippa  was 
intimate  with  nobody  but  Helen  Odell  that  she 
heard  no  further  discussion  of  the  matter. 
She  went  about  the  daily  routine  of  classes 
and  preparation  for  them  and  the  days  were 
full  of  cheerful  and  orderly  activities.  Ber- 
tha Ross,  who  now  seemed  to  have  got  up  her 
courage  enough  to  allow  her  to  come  forward, 
came  to  Philippa's  room  after  dinner  and  the 
call  was  returned  the  next  evening.  Mar- 
garet Dixon  treated  Philippa  in  much  the 
same  matter-of-fact  way  as  she  did  the  other 
girls,  and  the  poor  homesick  Flora  Brundage 
sometimes  came  to  her  for  help  in  her  lessons 
or  for  a  listener  when  she  wanted  to  talk 
of  home. 

130 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

With  nobody  unfriendly  and  with  several 
friendships  in  the  making,  Philippa  ought  to 
have  been  very  happy.  But  she  wasn't 
happy.  Even  though  she  might  forget  her 
trouble  at  night  it  lay  in  wait  for  her  as  soon 
as  she  had  decided  that  what  had  waked  her 
was,  after  all,  the  rising  bell.  She  fancied 
that  Madame's  eyes  did  not  rest  on  her  with 
as  clear  a  confidence  and  liking  as  they  had 
at  first ;  she  imagined  sometimes  that  the  girls 
looked  on  her  with  suspicion,  or,  at  least, 
doubt.  So  she  began  to  shun  them  and  go  up 
to  her  room  immediately  after  dinner  instead 
of  staying  with  the  rest  of  the  girls  in  the 
drawing  room  or  making  one  of  a  group  of 
girls  perched  on  some  girl's  bed  and  talking 
at  the  top  of  their  lungs.  And  she  stopped 
going  to  Helen  Odell's  room. 

Madame  evidently  saw  that  something  was 
amiss. 

"What  do  you  do  that  you  lose  the  rose  in 
your  cheeks?"  Madame  asked  one  afternoon 
as  Philippa  hurried  past  her  in  the  hall.  "It 
was  not  for  this  that  you  were  left  with  us." 
And  when  the  girl  with  a  hasty,  "Oh,  there's 
nothing  the  matter,  thank  you,  Madame. 
Perhaps  I'm  a  little  tired,"  hurried  on,  Ma- 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

dame  d'Albert  stood  and  watched  her  with  a 
thoughtful  look  on  her  face.  Then  she  smiled 
with  relief. 

"I  had  forgotten  that  it  is  almost  the  time 
for  the  first  examinations,"  she  thought. 
"The  foolish  child,  to  think  that  she  needs  to 
be  afraid." 

But  when  the  two  days  set  for  tests  in 
French  and  English  were  over,  and  Philippa 
came  through  at  the  head  of  the  list  in  Eng- 
lish subjects  and  algebra  and  astonishingly 
near  the  head  in  French,  outranking  girls 
who  had  been  at  the  Chateau  three  years  or 
more;  and  when  she  still  looked  pale  and 
troubled  and  kept  as  much  to  herself  as  she 
could,  Madame  began  to  be  seriously 
concerned. 

"The  question  is  always,"  she  told  herself, 
"how  much  one  has  a  right  to  intrude.  I 
don't  believe  in  forcing  confidence.  Still,  I 
can't  let  this  go  on  much  longer.  The  child 
will  be  really  ill." 

The  next  morning  Philippa  did  not  appear 
at  breakfast  time.  Immediately  after  prayers 
Madame  hurried  to  her  room. 

Philippa's  eyes  were  on  the  door  when 
Madame  opene'd  it.  But  after  the  girl  had 

132 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

smiled  at  Madame  d' Albert  wistfully  she 
turned  her  head  and  looked  straight  ahead  at 
the  wall  where  the  picture  hung  that  her 
mother  and  she  thought  looked  like  the  rocks 
and  trees  about  their  own  brook  at  home. 
Madame  went  briskly  about  her  investiga- 
tions. 

"A  headache,  and  a  dizzy  head  and — let  me 
see  the  tongue — yes,  I  thought  it,  coated.  No 
sore  throat?  And — this  in  your  mouth, 
now,  and  no  talking.  I  will  talk  and  you  can 
nod  or  shake  your  head.  This  picture  is  of 
your  sister  Doreen.  Yes?  But  she  is  lovely. 
And  this  is  the  wonderful  brother  Bayard? 
And  what  a  fine  father — he  could  be  gentle 
always.  Now  don't  bite  my  good  thermometer 
in  two!  The  time  is  up,  va!  No,  no  tempera- 
ture— or  only  half  a  degree.  Evidently  just 
an  upset  stomach.  I'll  be  the  doctor  this  time. 
I'll  send  Mimi  with  the  dose.  Now  don't  make 
a  face.  It  won't  be  a  very  bad  one,  only  a 
little  salty — it'll  go  down  in  a  second.  And 
now,  are  you  all  right,  my  little  Phil-eep-a. 
We  want  you  to  be  well.  You  are  dear  to 
me  and  Mimi.  And  we  want  that  you  should 
be  happy." 

She  was  bending  over   Philippa.     There 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

was  deep  concern  in  her  eyes.  A  light  caress 
fell  on  Philippa's  cheek. 

Both  of  Philippa's  arms  went  around  her 
neck  and  pulled  her  down. 

"Oh,  my  child,  you  are  weeping.  But  I 
thought  the  lonesomeness  was  past.  Not  that  ? 
Surely  nothing  that  can  have  happened  here 

is  worth  so  much  grief Something  you 

want  to  tell  me,  cherie?  Then  I  will  sit  here 
by  you.  Now !  Oh,  ma  petite  enfant,  nothing 
that  you  can  have  done  can  keep  you  from 

looking  at  me.  It  is  just  a  mistake 

Now  tell  me " 

At  first  sobs  and  words  came  all  mixed  up 
together.  Madame  knit  her  brows  in  the 

effort  to  understand.  Then "Ah,  Helen. 

It  is  of  Helen  ?  Then  you  must  speak  plainly. 
I  must  know." 

"I  just  felt  so  sorry  for  her ;  and  she  told 
me  all  about  him,  that  Mr.  Hugh  Ditmer — 
only  she  didn't  say  he  was  the  kind  of  man 
you  did.  She  told  me  how  wonderful  he  was, 
and  how  handsome,  and  how  they  had  fallen 
in  love  with  each  other  the  first  time  they  met. 
And,  and  he  was  crazy  about  her.  And  her 
father  and  mother  didn't  understand.  They 
cared  so  much  more  for  money  than  she  did. 

i34 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

And  Hugh  had  given  up  a  wonderful  position 
out  in  Vancouver  to  be  near  her.  And  he 
could  make  plenty  of  money  as  soon  as  it  was 
settled  and  he  could  take  her  with  him — and 
she  could  be  his  inspiration.  But  her  father 
and  mother  didn't  understand.  They  had 
forgotten  how  they  felt  when  they  were 
young — only  they  never  could  have  felt  the 
way  she  did  because  she  and  Hugh  were  dif- 
ferent. And  it  was  killing  them  both  not  to 
see  each  other.  She  would  lose  her  mind  or 
kill  herself  or  something  if  she  had  to  stay  in 
this  poky  place  without  him — only  I  told  her 
I  didn't  think  it  was  poky.  And  so — and 
so " 

The  impetus  that  had  carried  Philippa  thus 
far  began  to  die  down  when  she  reached  the 
hard  part. 

"So  you  sympathized  with  her,  cherie. 
And  so  do  I.  Then  she  asked  you  to  do  some- 
thing for  her  ?" 

"Yes.  Meet  him  at  that  queer  pink-colored 
house  they  call  the  Old  Cheese  Factory  one 
day  when  I  had  permission  to  go  to  see  Mrs. 
Cher  ton,  whom  I  like  so  much — only  I 
didn't  get  permission  for  that.  And  I  did 
go  afterward.  It — it  didn't  seem  a  bit  the 
10  i35 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

way  it  did  when  you  talked  about  it  at  prayers. 
I  saw  then  how  bad  it  was.  Like  a  lie  to  you. 
And  I  didn't  think  of  it  that  way.  I  didn't 
think  of  your  having  anything  to  do  with  it. 
It  was  just  her  father  and  mother.  It  seemed 
as  if  they  hadn't  any  right  to  force  her  to 
give  him  up.  And  I  had  never  seen  them  or 
anything.  I  guess  I  didn't  reason  it  out  very 
much,  but  it  didn't  seem  like  deceiving  you." 
She  gave  an  agonized  squeeze  to  Madame's 
hand.  Even  in  the  midst  of  her  real  anxiety 
Madame  smiled  tenderly.  She  went  on 
stroking  the  plump  warm  hand  while  Phil- 
ippa  went  on  with  her  story.  That  made  it 
easier  for  her  to  talk. 

"So  then  I  went.     And  it  was  rather  late 
in  the  afternoon  and  getting  dusk  so  it  was 
scary  and  I  couldn't  see  him  very  well.    There 
was  nobody  anywhere  near.     As  soon  as  I 
saw  him  I — don't  think  I  liked  him  very  much. 
Oh,  I  almost  wish  Helen  didn't  like  him.    But 
I  told  him  what  she  said  and  then  I — I  went 
away.     When  I  got  back  I  told  her  I  didn't 
think  he  was  the  right  kind  to  marry." 
"Why  not  ?     Why  didn't  you  like  him  ?" 
"Why,  you  said  there  were  things." 
"But  what  made  you  feel  them?" 
136 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"Oh,  I  don't  like  to  say  things — and  per- 
haps I  imagine  it.  But  I  didn't  feel  right 
when  I  was  talking  to  him.  He  looked  at  me 
— I  don't  know  how  to  say  it — and  I  probably 
imagined  it.  But,  wouldn't  you  think,  Ma- 
dame, that  when  he  was  in  love  with  Helen  and 
couldn't  live  without  marrying  her  'n'  every- 
thing, he  wouldn't  have  seen  any  other  girl 
only  just  enough  to  know  that  she  had 
brought  him  a  message  from  Helen.  I  should 
think  that  is  the  way  it  would  have  been. 
But— but— he " 

"I  think  I  understand,  ma  petite  Phil-eep-a. 
You  needn't  say  anything  more.  Although 
you  were  so  very  young,  only  yesterday 
a  child,  he  saw  that  you  had  bright  eyes 
and  pink  cheeks,  and  it  was  worth  while  to 
satisfy  his  vanity."  She  spoke  with  superb 
scorn. 

"Oh,  but  I  snatched  my  hand  away  and  left. 
And  perhaps  I  only  imagined — maybe  he  was 
just  so  glad  to  hear  from  Helen."  Philippa 
spoke  with  anxious  conscientiousness." 

Madame  looked  down  on  her  with  a  smile 
that  was  like  a  caress.  There  was  even  a 
twinkle  in  her  eyes,  too. 

"But  now,"  she  sighed  involuntarily,  "I 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

have  to  still  find  out  what  it  was  that  Helen 
told  you  to  tell  him." 

"Oh,  Madame,  I  can't  tell.  It  isn't  right 
ever,  is  it,  to  break  a  promise  ?  And  I  prom- 
ised Helen  I  would  never  tell,  never.  That 
was  why  I  didn't  tell,  that  morning  after 
prayers.  I  thought  and  thought  about  it. 
I  ought  to  keep  my  promise  to  Helen  and  I 
ought  not  to  act  a  lie.  And  I  was  acting  a 
lie  by  not  telling.  One  way  or  the  other,  I 
had  to  be  false.  I'm  breaking  my  word  to 
her,  now.  But  it  seems  different,  somehow, 
if  I  only  tell  you  my  part  of  it.  But  don't 
make  me  tell  her  part  of  it,  too.  That  would 
be  terrible."  She  burrowed  her  head  in  the 
pillow. 

There  was  a  long  silence.  At  last  Madame 
spoke,  low. 

"No,  I  will  not  ask  you  unless  there  is  some 
danger  to  her  now,  while  she  is  in  my  keep- 
ing. No?" 

"No !"  Philippa  spoke  eagerly.  "It  wasn't 

to  be  while  she  was  here.  Not  until " 

She  bit  her  lips. 

"Bien.  Then  I  will  speak  to  Helen  herself. 
And  you  must  not  torment  yourself.  You 
have  done  no  real  harm.  I  should  not  like 

138 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

you  not  to  suffer  for  your  faults.  But  it  is 

morbid  to  suffer  too  long.  I  think " 

She  surveyed  Philippa  critically — "I  think 
you  have  suffered  enough.  You  have  not 
destroyed  my  trust  in  you,  you  know ;  I  think 
I  would  trust  you  now  more  than  I  did  before. 
What  you  did  most  young  girls  put  in  the 
same  place  would  have  done." 

A  firefly  gleam  of  a  smile  came  into  her 
eyes  and  an  almost  vanished  dimple  twinkled 
for  a  moment  in  her  cheek.  It  was  as  if  she 
had  a  special  untold  jest  with  Philippa — or 
was  it  with  youth  ? 

"I  think — I  think  I  would  have  done  the 
same  thing  myself." 


CHAPTER  XV 

rHE  first  time  after  this  that  Philippa  met 
Helen  Odell  in  the  hall  that  young 
woman  drew  herself  up  and  launched  a  blaz- 
ing glance  of  fury  at  her  erstwhile  friend. 
Had  she  not  had  the  bracing  tonic  of 
Madame's  words  Philippa  might  well  have 
been  deeply  wounded  by  this.  As  it  was  a 
stray  recollection  out  of  her  extended  acquain- 
tance with  Shakespeare — rather  unusually 
extended  for  her  "set" — came  to  her  mind. 

"Some  Cleopatra,"  she  thought,  smiling, 
although  a  bit  ruefully.  "And  I'm  the  orig- 
inal worm." 

A  wonderful  week  of  the  golden  warmth  of 
Indian  summer  distracted  the  girls'  attention 
and  made  them  haunt  the  river  in  the  after- 
noon and  long  twilight.  When  Saturday 
afternoon  came  Jeff  braved  the  glances  of  all 
the  girls  about  the  Chateau  in  order  to  ask 
Philippa  to  go  rowing  with  him.  Philippa 

140 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

was  surprised  that  he  showed  no  more  em- 
barrassment than  he  did,  but  conducted  her 
across  the  road  and  down  to  the  landing  with 
an  almost  jaunty  air  of  unconcern.  But  her 
surprise  at  this  remarkable  development  in 
her  friend  was  entirely  swamped  in  amaze- 
ment when  she  saw,  comfortably  established 
in  the  boat,  the  blushing  Samuel  Boulden. 

"Oh,  I  say,  Jeff,"  Philippa  said,  hesitating 
on  the  ladder-like  step,  "I'm  afraid  Madame 
wouldn't  want  me  to  go  if  she  knew  you  had 
anyone  with  you.  The  permission  was  sup- 
posed to  be  just  to  go  with  you." 

Sam  Boulden  had  a  countenance  better 
adapted  to  the  expression  of  other  emotions 
than  that  of  hurt  indignation.  But,  as  well 
as  it  would,  that  countenance  expressed  that 
emotion  now. 

"Aw — come  on,  Pip,"  said  Jeff,  easily.  "I 
don't  see  what  difference  that  makes.  I  think 
it  would  be  rather  silly  if  you  went  back  to 
ask — and  rather  tough  on  Brother  Boulden." 
He  grinned  cheerfully.  "If  a  guy  expresses 
the  desire  to  make  your  acquaintance  be 
grateful,  young  woman,  be  grateful.  It  may 
not  happen  again  for  a  long  time.  And  I'll 
guarantee  to  keep  this  bold  bad  youth  in 
141 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 
order.     There'll  be  no  'Hairbreadth  Harry' 


in  mine." 


Feeling  a  little  foolish,  Philippa  finally 
descended  into  the  boat.  "After  all,  what 
else  can  I  do  ?"  she  thought.  "It  would  make 
so  much  of  it  if  I  objected.  And  Madame 
wouldn't  want  me  to  do  that.  She  isn't  that 
kind."  Since  yesterday  Philippa's  belief  in 
the  human  understanding  in  Madame  was 
strong.  And  that  served  to  make  confidence 
in  her  decisions  greater.  So  Philippa  settled 
herself  and  proceeded  to  enjoy  the  occasion 
to  the  utmost. 

The  boys  asked  her  to  take  the  rudder. 
Most  of  Philippa's  experiences  on  the  water 
were  connected  with  the  Cove.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Gale  were  so  convinced  that  the  upper  Potomac 
was  unsafe  for  canoes  that  she  was  not  often 
allowed  there.  At  the  Cove  they  used  canoes 
when  it  was  fairly  calm,  motor-boats  for  long 
trips  to  outside,  less  sheltered  spots,  and  sail- 
boats for  real  sport.  Row-boats  were  so 
rarely  used  except  for  something  to  dive  from 
that  she  felt  she  was  going  back  to  an  earlier 
day  when  she  was  placidly  ensconced  in  the 
stern  of  the  boat  with  the  tiller  ropes  in  her 
hands. 

142 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

It  was  really  great  fun.  The  boys  were 
most  solicitous  about  her  comfort.  They  had 
evidently  felt  that  cushions  were  a  particu- 
larly delicate  attention  to  the  female  of  the 
species,  for  her  end  of  the  boat  was  quite 
heaped  with  them. 

"They  certainly  have  'Said  it  with  cush- 
ions.' I  seem  to  be  Cleopatra  this  time,"  she 
thought,  quite  amused,  and  yet  rather  grati- 
fied, too.  "It  really  is  rather  nice  to  have 
them  treat  you  as  if  you  were  getting  grown- 
up at  last."  Jeff,  of  course,  grinned  at  her 
as  if  the  whole  thing  were  a  good  joke  they 
shared  together.  But  Sam  Boulden,  already 
beginning  to  perspire  on  his  seat  in  front  of 
her,  looked  almost  abashed  every  time  he  met 
her  eyes,  so  exalted  was  his  respect.  Phil- 
ippa  was  so  anxious  to  put  him  at  his  ease 
that  she  chattered  vivaciously,  exerting  her- 
self to  be  kind  to  him. 

They  skirted  the  drooping  willows  that  lined 
the  river  side  of  Empire  Street.  Philippa 
was  already  so  familiar  with  the  town  that 
almost  every  place  they  passed  had  begun  to 
have  some  association  for  her.  As  she  caught 
the  vivid  pink  plaster  front  of  the  Old  Cheese 
Factory  the  recollection  of  her  meeting  there 
143 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

with  Mr.  Hugh  Ditmer  made  her  wince.  In 
the  broad  daylight  it  seemed  absurd  to  have 
the  creepy  feeling  about  it  that  she  had  had ; 
it  was  just  like  the  momentary  pang  of  biting 
down  on  a  sore  tooth. 

Beyond  the  Cheese  Factory  green  fields 
stretched  away  into  marshland.  Then, 
through  ranks  of  weeds  that  rippled  this  way 
and  that  with  the  changing  breeze,  they  came 
to  the  mouth  of  the  Little  River  and  so  turned 
inland.  Then  Philippa  realized  that  she  was 
to  experience  a  new  pleasure.  This  winding 
dreamily  in  and  out,  around  curves,  under 
overhanging  trees,  into  sun,  through  dappled 
shade,  now  almost  grounding  on  the  shallows, 
now  almost  turned  around  by  a  racing  cur- 
rent, had  a  charm  that  neither  the  Cove 
nor  her  few  experiences  in  canoeing  on  the 
Potomac  had  never  furnished  her.  Here  and 
there  they  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  dingy 
cabane  by  a  stretch  of  dusty  road.  Other- 
wise they  had  the  river  and  the  green  depths 
of  trees  alone  with  the  squirrels  and  the  birds 
that  the  mild  day  had  brought  out  of  holes 
and  nests  to  frolic  through  the  brief  day  of 
summer  warmth. 

When  they  landed  and  were  exploring  the 
144 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

manor,  Philippa  found  thajt  while  Jeff  had 
much  of  her  own  interest — together  with  a 
much  more  accurate  knowledge  of  Canadian 
history  than  herself,  Sam  Boulden's  attitude 
was  one  of  sublime  indifference  to  anything 
remotely  connected  with  the  books  he  was 
forced  to  plod  through  on  week  days.  He 
was  amiably  impervious  to  the  interest  of  the 
two  young  Americans,  but  followed  Philippa 
about,  determinedly  devoted  if  somewhat  out 
of  his  depth. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

BY  the  time  they  started  back  Philippa  had 
begun  to  find  a  worshiper  a  boresome 
possession.  It  had  been  great  fun  to  pose  as 
sultaness  for  a  little  while,  but  the  effort  to 
live  up  to  her  exalted  position  was  wearing 
after  a  time.  Constraint  always  made  Phil- 
ippa irritable  and  she  began  to  mentally  visit 
her  irritation  upon  Mr.  Samuel  Boulden. 

"Doesn't  he  know  anything  to  do  but  to 
agree  with  me?"  she  fumed  inwardly.  "It's 
all  very  well  to  have  people  agree  with  you 
sometimes  and  it  makes  you  cross  when  they 
don't.  But  when  he  does  all  the  time  it  makes 
me  feel  as  if  he  were  a  perfect  fool  or  else 
pretending.  And  it  doesn't  make  any  de- 
bates— and  I  like  to  argue  things.  It's  so 
much  more  interesting." 

If  he  had  been  an  old  friend  like  Jeff  she 
would  undoubtedly  have  flat-footedly  an- 
nounced that  she  was  discontented  with  him 
and  made  very  clear  the  reason  why.  Since 
146 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

he  was  not  she  merely  became  very  stiff  and 
silent  and  very,  very  polite.  Poor  Boulden, 
feeling  blindly  that  he  was  in  the  wrong  some- 
how, wiped  his  perspiring  brow  and  wondered 
what  in  the  world  he  could  do  to  make  her 
look  as  pleasant  and  interested  as  she  had  at 
first.  With  his  mind  on  this  question  he  be- 
came very  abstracted.  Jeff,  entirely  blind  to 
the  situation,  was  the  only  one  who  was  thor- 
oughly comfortable.  He  rowed  lustily,  was 
interested  in  everything  they  passed,  enjoyed 
himself  guying  the  silent  two  in  front  of  him 
when  he  could  spare  the  time  from  thinking 
how  good  dinner — any  kind  of  a  dinner — was 
going  to  taste. 

As  they  came  in  sight  of  their  landing, 
therefore,  he  was  not  willing  to  waste  any 
time.  If  it  proved  to  be  still  some  time  to 
dinner  he  was  resolved  to  pick  up  some 
crackers  and  cheese  at  one  of  the  shops;  he 
was  absolutely  incapable  of  going  any  longer 
without  food.  And  old  Boulden,  as  soon  as 
they  got  rid  of  Philippa,  and  the  idiot  could 
act  like  a  human  being  again,  would  be  as 
hungry  as  he  was. 

"I  wouldn't  have  believed  that  any  fellow 
that's  got  all  that's  coming  to  him  could  be 
i47 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

as  dumb  as  Boulden  has  been  to-day,"  he 
thought.  "Don't  catch  me  getting  a  crush  on 

a  girl  if  it  takes  you  like  that He's  got 

as  stern  a  look  on  his  old  mug  now  as  if  he  had 
just  determined  to  cross  the  Delaware  or  the 
Rubicon  or  swim  the  Hellespont  or  some- 
thing." Then  he  said  to  Boulden.  "Better 
let  me  take  her  in,  Boulden.  You  seem  to 
have  your  mind  on  higher  things." 

To  his  surprise,  Boulden,  with  a  white  fixed 
look  of  determination,  had  carefully  shipped 
his  oars  and  was  standing  up  in  the  boat — 
was  deliberately  rocking  it. 

"Heigh!  You!"  shouted  Jeff,  thoroughly 
incensed.  "What're  you  doing?  I  thought 
any  idiot  knew  better  than  that!  Sit  down, 
Sam,  and  don't  be  an  idiot.  Philippa  knows 
too  much  about  boats  to  think  that's  cunning." 

But  Boulden  only  rocked  the  boat  more. 

"Oh,  can  it !"  Philippa  had  said  disgustedly 
when — somehow  they  were  all  in  the  water. 

Too  good  a  swimmer  to  be  frightened  by 
the  suddenness  of  it  or  bothered  much  by  the 
weight  of  her  clothes,  Philippa's  first  thought 
was: 

"Gosh,  but  it's  lucky  that  I  wore  sneakers." 
But  her  second  was,  "Catch  me  going  any 
148 


>  e 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

place  with  that  worm  again."  Then  she  struck 
out  vigorously  for  shore. 

Jeff  floated  near  the  boat  for  a  minute  until 
he  saw  that  Philippa  was  taking  care  of  her- 
self. He  knew  too  much  to  insult  her  by 
offering  her  assistance.  Then,  with  the 
painter  of  the  boat  in  his  teeth,  he,  too,  struck 
out  for  shore.  At  that  moment  they  heard  a 
startling  yell  from  Boulden,  who,  pursuing 
Philippa,  all  at  once  threw  up  his  hands  and 
vanished.  It  happened  that  Philippa  was 
nearer  to  him  than  Jeff  so  she  reached  him 
first,  grabbed  the  collar  of  his  coat  as  he  came 
up  to  the  surface,  and  had  him  hanging  on  to 
the  planks  of  the  boat  landing  in  what  seemed 
no  more  than  a  minute.  Jeff,  plunging  after 
her,  helped  get  Boulden  upon  the  platform. 

As  soon  as  Boulden's  blowing  and  sputter- 
ing assured  them  that  he  was  not  drowned, 
Jeff's  rage  found  feeble  expression. 

"Perhaps  now  you'll  tell  me  what  you  made 
such  an  ass  of  yourself  for?"  he  said  with  a 
mildness  of  intonation  that  left  neither  his 
hearers  in  any  doubt  of  the  indignation  that 
was  consuming  him.  "The  next  time  I  con- 
sent to  let  a  fellow  come  with  me  when  I'm 

taking  a  lady " 

149 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"'Lady' ?"  Philippa  started,  unable 

to  believe  her  ears.  But  scrutiny  of  his 
face  revealed  nothing  but  awe-inspiring 
seriousness. 

"Gosh,  Jeff  doesn't  know  how  funny  he  is," 
she  thought.  And  yet  she  was  not  entirely 
unimpressed. 

But  they  were  both  of  them  horrified  by 
poor  Boulden's  actually  bursting  into  tears. 
Philippa  was  instantly  dissolved  in  sympathy, 
but  Jeff  was  frankly  disgusted. 

"P-p-perhaps  you  think  it  was  any  f-f-fun," 
Boulden  gasped,  "to  have  to  h-h-have  that 
blamed  old  c-c-cramp  and  have  a  g-g-girl  pull 
me  out !  And  now  I  supp-p-pose  you'll  never 
g-g-get  over  it  and  it'll  be  b-b-blabbed  all  over 
the  p-p-place  and  all  the  f-f-fellows'll  never 
quit  ragging  me.  And  what  will  Miss 
G-G-Gale  think  of  me.  And  you  may  think 
I'm  b-b-bawling  but  I'm  not — I'm  j-j-just 
sh-sh-shivering.  And  it  was  w-a-ater  f-f  rom 
the  r-iv-v-ver  on  my  face!" 

Jeff  was  finding  it  hard  work  to  keep  from 
laughing.  But  he  was  still  more  disgusted 
than  amused. 

"What  under  the  shining  sun  made  you  do 
such  a  kindergarten  trick  as  rock  the  boat  ?" 

150 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

he  demanded  sternly.  I  can  stand  rough 
stuff,  but  I  can't  go  such  darned  idiocy." 

"If  you'll  promise  not  to  tell  them  at  the 
school  I'll  tell  you."  In  his  anxiety  on  this 
point  Boulden  seemed  to  have  forgotten  Phil- 
ippa  for  the  time  being. 

"All  right— shoot." 

"If  I'd  known  how  it  was  going  to  turn 
out  I'd  never  have  done  it.  But — I 
w-w-wanted  to  have  a  ch-ch-ch-ance  to 
s-s-save  Miss  Gale  f-f-from  d-drowning." 

As  soon  as  the  full  perfection  of  this  sank 
into  the  intelligence  of  the  two  young  Ameri- 
cans they  burst  into  shouts  of  laughter.  And 
that  made  Sam  Boulden  at  first  bewildered, 
then  madder  than  anything  yet  had  had  power 
to  do. 

"W-w-wat're  you  1-1-laughing  at  ?  What's 
so  bl-1-l-amed  funny  about  it  ?  I'll  bet  you  it 
wouldn't  have  been  so  f-f-funny  if  I  hadn't 
had  that  blamed  old  cr-cr-cramp.  If  I'm 
f-f-funny  then  all  the  chaps  in  the  cinemas 
that  save  girls  from  drowning  are  f-f-funny, 
too.  How'd  I  know  she  could  swim?  And 
that  I'd  get  a  cr-cr-cramp  the  f-f-first  thing?" 

The  more  indignant  he  became  the  more 
Jeff  and  Philippa  were  forced  to  laugh.  They 
11  iS1 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

were  helpless.  The  tears  streamed  down 
their  faces. 

With  one  grand  effort  Boulden  pulled  him- 
self together.  Drawing  himself  up  to  his  full 
height,  he  said,  with  offended  dignity: 

"I  might  have  known  Randolph  would 
laugh  like  a  hyena,  Miss  Gale,  but  I  didn't 
think  you  would.  The  only  thing  that  kept  me 
from  pulling  you  out  was  that  blamed  cramp. 
And  I'm  not  to  blame  for  that.  Another  time 
you  will  have  to  look  out  for  yourself." 

With  this  he  turned  his  back  on  them  and, 
still  running  streams  of  water,  climbed  the 
steps  up  the  embankment  and  was  seen  no 
more. 

When  they  had  laughed  so  much  that,  in 
spite  of  the  chill  of  the  late  afternoon  air,  they 
felt  warm,  they  began  to  think  of  getting  back 
to  their  respective  schools.  Philippa  was 
worried  over  the  idea  of  all  the  explanations 
she  would  have  to  make.  Jeff  was  shock- 
ingly lacking  in  sympathy.  All  the  time  he 
was  tying  up  the  boat  and  collecting  the 
cushions  which  the  current  fortunately  car- 
ried in  to  the  shore,  he  amused  himself  by 
telling  all  the  things  that  would  be  said  to 
her.  As  they  stood  for  a  moment  at  the  top 

152 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

of  the  embankment  looking  to  see  whether 
the  coast  was  clear,  Jeff  said  cheerfully. 

"I'll  say  Boulden  is  going  to  hate  you  after 
this." 

"Hate  me?  I  should  think  it's  the  other 
way  round." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  You  always  hate  the  per- 
son who  saw  you  make  a  fool  of  yourself." 

"Well,  that's  about  the  last  straw — I  must 
say  you  look  mighty  cheerful  about  it." 
Philippa  was  really  quite  distinctly  hurt.  "It 
is  one  thing  to  be  bored  with  a  boy  but  quite 
another  not  to  have  him  approve  of  you" 

Jeff  refused  to  be  depressed. 

"Why  not?  It's  bad  for  little  girls  to  have 
boys  mushy  about  them.  Besides — if  you 
want  to  know — I  think  it  was  darned  fresh 
of  Boulden." 

"There's  my  chance — nobody  about  now." 
Without  another  word  Philippa  ran  for  it. 
Somehow  Jeff's  last  words — or  rather  the 
little  flash  of  temper  that  accompanied  them 
— made  her,  weighted  down  as  she  was  with 
wet  clammy  clothes,  quite  comfortable.  "I 
don't  believe  Jeff  was  a  bit  pleased  to  have 
Sam  Boulden  show  me  attention,"  she  was 
thinking. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

FOR  some  reason  Philippa  was  astounded, 
outraged  in  her  tenderest  feelings,  when 
she  discovered  that  the  Canadians  did  not 
celebrate  the  same  Thanksgiving  Day  as  the 
one  in  the  United  States.  Moreover,  it  seemed 
to  be  a  very  tame  affair,  just  a  sort  of  Sunday 
injected  into  the  middle  of  the  week  in  the 
latter  part  of  October. 

"Before  it's  time  to  even  begin  thinking 
about  Thanksgiving,"  she  confided  to  Jeff  the 
next  time  she  saw  him.  "It's  just  silly.  Oh, 
Jeff,  do  you  suppose  we  could  go  home  for 
Thanksgiving?" 

"I  don't  know  about  you,  of  course.  But  I 
don't  believe  I  can.  You  see,  the  schools  here 
don't  take  our  holiday  into  consideration  and 
there  would  be  a  lot  of  work  to  make  up  and 
all.  Besides,  my  father's  going  to  be  out  home 
— all  through  his  district." 

"I  suppose  I'll  have  to  give  it  up,"  Philippa 
said,  sighing.  "But  it'll  be  horrible." 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Her  depression  seemed  so  great  that  Jeff 
was  sympathetic. 

"See  here,"  he  said,  "I  know  something 
that "  Then  he  stopped  himself  de- 
cidedly. "No,  I  shouldn't  have  said  any- 
thing about  it.  There  isn't  anything  cer- 
tain yet." 

And  to  all  Philippa's  urging  he  would  say 
nothing  more  than,  "I  forgot.  I  wasn't  to  say 
anything  about  it  yet,"  and  tried  to  change  the 
subject.  Philippa,  finally,  convinced  that  he 
was  trying  to  tease  her,  was  decidedly  huffy. 
But  her  irritation  only  seemed  to  make  Jeff 
highly  amused. 

"If  you  don't  look  out  you'll  lose  your  Priv- 
ilege," he  taunted  her.  "You  can't  expect  me 
to  want  to  come  to  see  a  girl  who  doesn't  treat 
me  any  better  than  you  do." 

So  the  Canadian  Thanksgiving  for  the  Har- 
vest passed  with  but  faint  interest  from  Phil- 
ippa. But  the  sharp  zest  of  the  first  cold 
weather  of  the  winter  diverted  her  when  she 
did  go  back,  although  the  old  house — in  spite 
of  the  double  windows  which  had  been  hur- 
riedly put  on — was  so  cold  during  the  night 
and  early  morning  that  getting  out  of  her 
warm  bed  was  an  ordeal.  It  was  fun  to  write 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

home  about  having  to  break  the  ice  in  her 
pitcher  to  take  her  bath — the  film  of  ice  that 
had  formed  being  just  thick  enough  to  make 
the  statement  true.  And  soon  the  first  skat- 
ing on  the  river  quite  drove  everything  else 
out  of  her  mind.  At  home  there  was  rarely 
more  than  a  few  days  of  skating  the  whole 
winter,  and  the  pools  in  Rock  Creek  and  the 
Tidal  Basin  were  so  crowded  that  the  ice  was 
cut  to  slush  almost  immediately.  But  here 
was  a  great  smooth  expanse  and  only  a  hand- 
ful of  school  girls  and  school  boys  to  take 
advantage  of  it.  In  her  warm  woolen  stock- 
ings, short  woolen  skirt,  thick  sweater  and  the 
peaked  woven  woolen  cap  they  called  a 
"tuque,"  she  was  a  sparkling  picture  of  the 
Joy  of  Winter.  For  the  moment  she  lived 
through  the  days  chiefly  for  the  moment 
when  she  could  get  on  the  ice,  to  skate  farther, 
faster  than  she  had  the  day  before  and  learn 
to  cut  a  new  figure  on  the  ice. 

Still,  as  the  home  Thanksgiving  time  drew 
near  and  letters  from  Washington  were  filled 
with  regrets  that  she  could  not  be  home  for 
the  family  dinner,  she  began  to  feel  rather 
doleful  about  it.  A  thaw  had  set  in;  there 
was  no  more  skating ;  the  little  town  was  gray 

156 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

and  dreary  and,  when  they  went  out  for  a 
walk,  the  girls  came  back  with  shoes  caked 
with  the  mud  of  the  crossings;  Helen  Odell 
was  still  angry  at  her.  To  Philippa,  it  was 
one  of  those  periods  when,  try  as  she  would 
to  be  cheerful,  everything  was  "all  horrible" 
to  her. 

On  Monday,  however,  came  the  explana- 
tion of  Jeff's  mysterious  hint.  Mrs.  Cherton 
had  asked  permission  of  Madame  and  of  the 
head  master  of  the  Boys'  School  to  have  both 
the  young  Americans  for  dinner  immediately 
after  school  on  the  real  American  Thanks- 
giving Day.  Philippa  was  to  spend  the  night. 
The  days  lagged  until  the  last  Thursday  in 
November  came.  And  every  hour  of  that 
day  was  as  twenty-four. 

Jeff  called  for  Philippa  and,  in  full  view  of 
as  many  of  the  girls  as  could  manage  to  be 
around,  they  walked  gayly  off  together.  As 
Mrs.  Cherton's  little  gray  stone  house  came 
in  view  Philippa  said,  pensively : 

"Wasn't  I  a  dumb-bell  ever  to  think  her 
house  looked  gloomy  ?" 

"Just  you  wait  until  we're  inside,"  said 
Jeff.  "I  began  to  smell  Thanksgiving  before 
I  woke  up  this  morning.  It  seems  to  me  I'll 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

go  nutty  if  I  have  to  wait  another  minute  for 
that  turkey." 

Fortunately  for  Jeff's  sanity,  they  didn't 
have  to  wait  long.  When  the  girl  and  boy 
followed  Mrs.  Cherton  into  the  dining  room 
with  its  homely  cheerfulness,  its  glowing 
base-burner  stove,  it's  general  air  of  snugness, 
Philippa  burst  out: 

"Oh,  I  didn't  know  how  jolly  it  would  be  just 
to  have  a  small  table.  It  makes  so  much  dif- 
ference somehow,  and  to  know  that  things 
were  got  ready  just  for  you.  Just  the  small- 
est kind  of  a  home  is  so  much  better  than  the 
finest  kind  of  anything  else.  Dear  me,  I  sound 
as  if  I  had  lost  my  mind,  but  perhaps  you 
know  what  I  mean." 

"It  doesn't  matter — nothing  matters  when 
you're  having  soup  like  this.  Oh,  boy!  it's 
seasoned.  I  don't  know  whether  you've 
prayed  over  this  soup,  Mrs.  Cherton,  but  you 
certainly  have  thought  over  it.  I  know  it's 
got  about  fifty  things  in  it  and  it  couldn't  have 
done  without  one  of  them.  And  croutons — 
Hot  dog !"  Jeff  subsided  into  blissful  activity. 

There  were  signs  of  commotion  at  the 
swinging  door  that  led  into  the  kitchen,  which 
trembled  visibly.  Mrs.  Cherton  jumped  up. 

158 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"That's  Chloe,"  she  said.  "She's  deter- 
mined to  bring  in  the  turkey,  which  I'm  quite 
sure  weighs  more  than  she  does.  I'll  have  to 
help  her.  If  I  don't,  she'll  smash  herself  or 
the  turkey." 

She  vanished  into  the  kitchen,  and  the  agi- 
tation of  the  door  became  more  and  more 
desperate.  Jeff  jumped  up  and  opened  the 
door  and  held  it  open.  Thus  old  Chloe  was 
disclosed,  frail,  white  haired,  trembling  with 
excitement,  more  than  half  of  her  being  old- 
fashioned  black  merino  dress,  clear-starched 
voluminous  white  apron,  and  belligerent  cap 
strings.  She  was  triumphant;  the  daring 
smile  on  her  face  showed  that.  For  the  huge 
platter  with  the  richly  browned  turkey  was 
before  her  and  her  old  arms  were  presumably 
carrying  it.  But  back  of  her  was  Mrs. 
Cherton,  her  arms  inclosing  both  Chloe  and 
platter,  her  face  red  with  the  effort  and  with 
suppressed  laughter.  How  the  platter  was 
finally  deposited  on  the  table  without  break- 
ing everything  within  radius  of  those  shak- 
ing old  arms  was  a  miracle.  But  it  was 
done,  and  Chloe,  having  achieved  what,  ac- 
cording to  her  code,  Mrs.  Cherton's  old  ser- 
vant should  accomplish,  made  a  shaky  little 
i59 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

dip  of  curtsy  and  retired  again  to  the  kitchen. 
There  she  sat  in  state  during  subsequent  pro- 
ceedings, served  with  the  best  of  the  feast  by 
the  two  children,  and  keeping  up  a  running 
commentary  on  degenerate  present  conditions, 
interspersed  with  highly  imaginary  accounts 
of  the  past  glories  of  Mrs.  Cherton's  house. 

When  they  had  reached  plum  pudding,  and 
were  contemplating  a  long  session  over  nuts 
and  raisins,  Jeff  said: 

"If  I  eat  enough  for  five,  Mrs.  Cherton,  it's 
all  your  fault  for  exciting  my  imagination. 
When  I  conclude  I've  really  had  enough  I  look 
at  that  fruit  centerpiece,  and  when  I  know  I 
really  can't  eat  any  more  there  is  the  picture  of 
those  gorgeous  grapes  hanging  on  the  wall. 
It  isn't  fair  to  prod  a  fellow  so.  Why,  even 
the  sideboard  has  apples  and  pears  and  things 
carved  on  it.  And  that  picture  of  game  hang- 
ing there — and  the  other  one  of  fish — make 
me  hungry  all  over  again.  Ten  to  one,  if  you 
started  me  all  over  again  with  broiled  trout 
I'd  eat  right  through  another  dinner." 

"When  we  don't  want  you  to  eat,  Jeff,  we'll 
put  you  in  a  vacuum,"  said  Philippa,  smartly. 
"You'd  be  a  mighty  good  subject  for  a  hyp- 
notist." 

160 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Over  the  nuts  and  raisins,  talk  flowed  on 
and  on.  Philippa  got  Mrs.  Cherton  to  tell 
Jeff  about  her  days  in  India.  They  prodded 
her  with  questions:  Did  the  fakirs  really 
make  the  mango  plant  grow  before  your  eyes  ? 
Do  men  really  dance  on  hot  coals  in  their 
religious  dances  without  getting  burnt?  What 
is  Nirvana,  anyway?  And  Philippa  and  Jeff 
contended  with  each  other  for  the  floor  in 
telling  everything  funny  that  had  happened. 
Judging  by  the  spasms  of  laughter  they  must 
have  been  a  witty  party.  The  noise  served  as 
a  slumber  song  to  old  Chloe,  sunk  in  blissful 
peace. 

"Do  you  see  the  snow — eh-h-h?"  Mrs. 
Cherton  said,  at  last.  Floating  down  past  the 
window  were  flakes  of  white.  Thicker,  faster 
they  fell. 

"Oh,  that's  just  perfect!  only  I  haven't  my 
snowshoes  yet." 

"Are  you  thinking,  Philippa  child,  that 
you'll  snowshoe  with  just  a  few  flakes  on  the 
ground?" 

"Oh,  but  when  there  is  enough,  I'm  afraid 
it  '11  take  some  time  to  get  them  down  from 
Montreal.  I'm  sure  there  aren't  the  kind  I 
want  here/' 

161 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"Now  if  you'll  just  contain  yourself,  Miss 
Fast-and-f  urious,  we'll  see  if  there  isn't  a  pair 
in  the  attic.  You'll  be  a  good  girl  until  I  can 
get  up  there — eh-h-h?  And  now,  if  you're 
quite  through,  Mr.  Jeff,  we'll  make  short  work 
of  the  dishes,  for  if  we  don't  Chloe  '11  be  un- 
easy in  her  slumber,  thinking  that  she's  going 
to  do  them.  Now !  All  together !" 

They  had  almost  more  fun  cleaning  up 
after  the  dinner  than  they  had  had  eating  it. 
To  both  children,  so  long  away  from  home, 
the  intimate  connection  with  cold  closets, 
pantry,  hot  soapy  water,  and  clean  tea  towels 
the  intimate  connection  with  cold  closets, 
They  pranced  around,  laughing,  singing, 
"kidding"  each  other,  bombarding  Mrs. 
Cherton  with  questions,  feeling,  somehow, 
though  they  couldn't  have  just  expressed, 
packed  into  a  soft,  warm  comfort  of  assur- 
ance that  everything  was  well  with  themselves 
and  everyone  connected  with  them,  that  noth- 
ing would  change  except  to  march  triumph- 
antly to  something  gloriously  better  than  any- 
thing they  had  ever  known.  The  never-ceas- 
ing moving  mass  of  snowflakes  softly  visible 
through  the  fading  light  of  the  windows 
added  to  the  security  and  comfort. 

162 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"As  soon  as  we  finish  the  dishes  we'll  go 
and  look  for  snowshoes,"  Philippa  chanted, 
happily.  "And  then  perhaps  you  won't  mind 
if  Jeff  and  I  go  out  and  race  around  in  the 
snow  a  little.  And  then  we'll  come  back  and 
sit  by  the  fire  and  tell  stories  some  more.  And 
— oh,  it  makes  things  so  much  nicer,  somehow, 
to  be  going  to  spend  the  night.  No  matter 
how  glad  you  are  to  go  home  and  how  nice  a 
place  you  have  to  go  to — and  I  do  like  my 
room  at  the  Chateau — still  it  does  break  things 
off  when  you  have  to  leave,  and  that  prevents 
you  from  feeling  just  a«  comfy  as  you  might. 
So  we'll  talk  and  talk." 

"And  then  perhaps  you'll  go  to  bed,  eh-h-h  ?" 
"Oh  yes,  I  suppose  so — to  bed — sometime. 
But,  oh,  I  know  I  won't  want  to  go  back  to 
school  to-morrow." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

BUT  when  she  got  back  to  the  school  she 
found  it  wasn't  so  bad  after  all.  All 
through  the  day's  recitations  the  never-ceas- 
ing moving  mass  of  snowflakes  softly  visible 
through  the  schoolroom  windows  carried  with 
it  a  sense  of  something  snug  and  cozy,  affec- 
tionately wrapping  about  their  little  world. 

Everyone,  even  the  more  stolid-seeming 
girls,  showed  that  they  felt  the  influence. 
Margaret  Dixon  spoke  to  Philippa  between 
classes  with  an  almost  intimate  tone ;  everyone 
in  the  little  community  seemed  suddenly  of 
more  importance  as  if  they  were  all  going  to 
have  to  depend  on  each  other,  separated  from 
the  rest  of  the  world.  After  dinner  Madame 
made  the  recreation  hour  a  little  longer  than 
usual.  While  she  told  the  little  girls  bed-time 
stories  in  her  own  room  all  the  older  girls 
sat  around  the  fire  in  the  drawing  room  and 
talked.  Philippa,  to  whom  trying  to  make 
things  go  was  an  inborn  instinct,  led  off  with 

164 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

stories  of  historic  coasting  seasons  in  Wash- 
ington, D.  C.  It  was  noteworthy  that 
while  the  Canadian  girls  had  all  the  advan- 
tage of  living  in  a  country  where  winter 
sports  have  reached  their  climax,  the  narra- 
tives of  the  four  or  five  days'  coasting  winter 
in  the  southern  clime  were  far  more  exciting ! 
The  others,  however,  nobly  seconded  her 
efforts,  even  Helen  Odell  waking  out  of  her 
abstraction  enough  to  add  a  thrilling  skiing 
episode.  Bertha  Ross  cuddled  close  to  Phil- 
ippa  in  the  pleasant  warmth  and  Flora  Brund- 
age  won  a  place  against  the  younger  Turner 
sister  on  the  other  side.  It  was  interesting 
that  Margaret  Dixon,  on  the  other  side  of 
the  hearth,  also  had  her  devoted  satellites  of 
Effie  White  and  one  of  the  Ogilvie  girls.  The 
two  groups  faced  each  other  like  different 
camps. 

All  at  once  Philippa  perceived  that  Flora 
Brundage  was  weeping,  her  head  on  Phil- 
ippa's  shoulder. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Flora?"  she  asked  a 
little  crossly.  "I  should  think  you'd  be  able 
to  keep  from  being  homesick  one  evening,  any 
way,  especially  such  a  nice  cozy  evening  as 
this." 

165 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"I  was  th-th-thinking  how  the  s-s-snow  was 
falling  on  my  1-1-little  b-b-brother's  grave," 
Flora  sobbed. 

Philippa  was  aghast  at  her  own  callousness. 

"Oh,  Flora,  I'm  so  sorry,"  she  said  softly. 
"When  did  he  die  ?  I  wouldn't  have  hurt  you 
for  anything." 

"Ten  years  ago,"  Flora  said,  with  a  certain 
mournful  satisfaction.  "I  don't  remember 
him,  but  I  know  j-j-just  how  his  g-g-grave 
looks."  She  dribbled  some  more  tears. 

"Look  here,  Flora,  if  I  were  you,"  Philippa 
had  begun  when  she  met  a  twinkle  in  Mar- 
garet Dixon's  eye.  Then  everybody  laughed, 
Philippa  joining  in,  in  spite  of  herself.  Flora 
was  meekly  hurt  at  first.  But  she  was  used 
to  having  the  world  seem  unsympathetic,  and 
soon  forgot  herself  enough  to  laugh  at  a  really 
very  funny  story  that  Margaret  Dixon  told. 

All  the  next  day  it  snowed  so  hard  that 
Madame  did  not  think  it  best  to  allow  the  girls 
out  and  the  snow  was  falling  as  fast  and 
thick  as  ever  when  Philippa  went  to  bed. 
Philippa,  whose  snowshoes  tantalizingly 
faced  her  on  the  wall  of  her  room,  went  to 
sleep  dismally  convinced  that  she  would  never 
get  a  chance  to  use  them.  But  the  next  morn- 

166 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

ing ! The  sun  was  shining ;  the  air  was 

dry  and  sharp;  it  was  the  Saturday  holiday! 
Nothing  could  have  been  better.  She  hur- 
ried through  the  special  Saturday  putting- 
her-room-in-order ;  and  Mademoiselle  Mimi 
came  upon  her  outside  the  house  trying  to 
fasten  her  snowshoes  on  at  half -past  nine 
o'clock. 

"But  do  you  American  girls  expect  to  do 
everything  without  instruction !  You  cannot 
wear  regular  shoes,  Phileepa,  now  with  hard 
soles  and  heels " 

"But  I  haven't  anything  else;  I  can't  wait 
to  go  to  the  store  and  my  feet  would  freeze 
in  sneakers." 

"Yes,  truly.  We  will  go  back  and  find 
some  moccasins  which  you  can  put  on,  and 
then  I  will  give  you  a  lesson.  But  you  have 
forgotten  your  over-stockings." 

"Oh,  Mademoiselle,  it  can't  be  cold  enough 
for  those  big  heavy  things.  I'll  look  so 
clumsy  in  them." 

"You  will  have  to  forget  your  American 
smartness  if  you  wish  to  go  snowshoeing  in 
Canada.  There  is  a  smartness  in  wearing 
just  the  most  sensible  clothes.  Tiens!  Wait 
until  I  costume  you  &  la  Canadienne" 
12  167 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

When  they  started  out  Philippa  padded 
along  softly  in  gaily  decorated  Indian  mocca- 
sins over  heavy  ribbed  woolen  stockings  that 
seemed  to  her  as  stiff  as  boards.  Her  thick 
woolen  tuque  was  drawn  well  down  over  her 
ears ;  the  collar  of  her  fur  coat  was  turned  up 
almost  to  her  nose  and  thick  mittens  were  on 
her  hands.  They  practically  slid  down  the 
embankment  to  the  bed  of  the  frozen  river, 
for  drifts  of  snow  made  it  impossible  to  locate 
the  steps. 

"Now  there  is  really  nothing  to  tell  you  but 
just  to  walk,"  said  Mademoiselle,  wrapping 
the  thongs  of  her  own  snowshoes  about  her 
ankles.  "The  one  thing  that  will  trouble  you 
is  that  you  will  tread  with  one  snowshoe  on 
the  other.  Then  you  will  trip  yourself  up 
and  perhaps  go  floundering  into  the  snow. 
That  you  may  not  do  that  you  must  keep  your 
feet  very  far  apart ;  and  you  must  make  your 
body  light  as  if  you  were  running,  with  the 
weight  on  the  balls  of  your  feet.  Va!  There 
is  nothing  now  but  to  go.  Oh,  yes,  and  not 
to  let  the  thongs  be  either  too  tight  or  too 
loose.  Try  to  walk  as  if  you  were  bow- 
legged." 

From  the  beginning  Philippa  loved  it.  It 
1 68 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

seemed  like  a  miracle  to  be  borne  up  on  the 
surface  of  snow  so  light  that  a  slight  puff 
of  wind  sent  a  miniature  blizzard  swirling  in 
all  directions.  It  was  like  the  possession  of 
a  sixth  sense.  It  was  impossible  to  merely 
walk;  in  her  exhilaration  Philippa  ran. 

"Why,  it's  just  no  trick  at  all  to  learn  to 
use  snow-shoes,"  she  called  out  over  her  shoul- 
der. "I  thought  it  would  take  some  time  to 
get  used  to  it,  like  skating."  In  her  exultation 
she  gave  a  sort  of  skip.  And  in  that  moment 
she  went  down.  Before  Mademoiselle  could 
catch  up  with  her  she  had  wallowed  around  in 
the  deep  snow,  tripping  herself  up  every  time 
she  tried  to  get  on  her  feet.  She  was  almost 
buried  in  it  when  Mademoiselle,  giving  her 
both  hands,  managed  to  drag  her  to  her 
feet. 

"But  I  am  glad  that  you  laugh,"  said 
Mademoiselle,  as  Philippa  could  hardly  brush 
herself  off  for  laughter. 

"How  can  anyone  do  anything  else?" 

"They  can,"  said  Mademoiselle.  "But  it 
is  not  those  of  whom  one  would  choose  a 
companion." 

After  a  little,  when  Philippa  had  proved 
able  to  manage  the  "tennis  rackets,"  as  she  in- 
169 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

sisted  on  calling  the  snowshoes,  Mademoiselle 
Mimi  said  reflectively: 

"I  believe  it  would  not  be  too  much  for  you 
if  we  took  a  real  walk  to  the  Manor.  It  is 
when  one  makes  a  real  expedition  that  the 
full  charm  of  snowshoeing  is  felt.  It  is  then 
that  one  feels  that  one  is  truly  a  'coureur  de 
bois'  making  his  way  through  trackless  for- 
ests where  no  white  man  has  ever  trod 
before." 

"Which  way  will  we  go  ?" 

Before  Mademoiselle  had  an  opportunity  to 
answer  this,  Margaret  Dixon  overtook  them. 
By  this  time  most  of  the  girls  from  the  Cha- 
teau were  out  and  a  group  of  the  boys  were 
skylarking  about  not  far  from  the  girls. 

" And  Miss  Shelby  is  not  yet  there," 

soliloquized  Mademoiselle.  "And  what  is  to 
prevent  them  from  playing  together?  And 
why  should  they  not?  It  is  only  that  in  this 
small  place  there  are  tongues.  But  I  must 
not  yet  leave  them " 

"Philippa,"  said  Margaret  Dixon  bluntly, 
"you  said  you  would  introduce  me  to  your 
friend.  Now's  a  good  time." 

"Of  course,"  Philippa  sped  toward  Jeff, 
smiling  to  herself.  "If  she  wants  to  know 
170 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

him  so  much  you'd  think  she  would  speak  to 
him  without  being  'introduced.'  They  are  so 
formal  and  yet  they  don't  stop  at  anything  to 
get  their  own  way.  Won't  Jeff  be  amused  ?" 

But  when  Jeff  was  informed  of  the  honor 
that  awaited  him  he  didn't  find  anything 
funny  in  it  at  all.  He  said,  "Oh,  certainly," 
settled  his  cap  at  a  smarter  angle  and  squared 
his  shoulders  with  quite  a  jaunty  air.  As 
they  drew  near  to  Margaret,  however,  he 
looked  slightly  crestfallen.  "Oh,  is  it  that 
one?"  he  asked  in  as  low  a  tone  as  he  could 
manage.  "I  don't  mind,  of  course,  but,  while 
you're  about  it,  why  don't  you  introduce  me 
to  the  other  one,  the  one  with  the  pink  cheeks 
and — oh,  the  pretty  one  in  the  blue  sweater 
and  blue  tuque  ?" 

The  "pretty  one"  was  evidently  Bertha 
Ross. 

"All  right,  I  will,"  said  Philippa  kindly. 
"She's  an  awfully  nice  girl,  too." 

Both  the  introductions  were  performed. 
Nobody  could  possibly  have  interpreted  Mar- 
garet Dixon's  solid  gravity  as  meaning  ex- 
quisite pleasure,  and  she  seemed  to  have  noth- 
ing to  say  to  Jeff  when  the  rite  was  performed. 
But  presumably  she  was  satisfied.  Bertha, 
171 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

with  flushing  cheeks  and  sparkling  blue  eyes, 
was  the  one  who  drew  Jeff's  attention  and  he 
walked  off  with  the  two  girls,  but  at  Bertha's 
side. 

"I  don't  believe  Jeff  is  as  indifferent  to  girls 
as  he  used  to  be,"  thought  Philippa,  not  alto- 
gether pleased.  "Why,  I  used  to  have  to 
talk  and  talk  to  him  to  make  him  polite  at  all 
to  Anne  'n'  Virginia."  She  walked  by 
Mademoiselle's  side  very  thoughtfully  for  a 
few  moments.  Then  she  saw  Miss  Shelby. 

"Oh,  now  we  can  start  off  to  the  Manor, 
can't  we?"  she  asked  Mademoiselle  eagerly. 

It  seemed  only  a  minute  or  so  before  the 
girls  and  boys  had  dropped  out  of  their  lives 
and  they  were  alone  on  the  frozen  river  walk- 
ing, light  as  thistledown  over  two  feet  or  so  of 
snow.  The  embankment,  for  a  time,  hid  the 
houses  along  the  bank  from  them,  walking 
just  under  it  as  they  were.  For  a  time  there 
was  nothing  in  Philippa's  life  but  the  buoyant 
joy  of  walking  and  the  beauty  of  the  softly 
billowing  whiteness  everywhere,  against  the 
white  the  overweighted  branches  of  the  wil- 
lows of  the  embankment  and  the  rambling 
farm  buildings  on  the  island  opposite — other- 
wise indistinguishable  from  the  ice-bound 

172 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

river — were  all  sharp  black  and  white;  the 
world,  it  would  seem,  had  no  half-tones. 
Against  the  whiteness  even  Mademoiselle's 
fair  skin  looked  swarthy,  and  the  pink  in  her 
cheeks  was  a  wintry  red. 

The  bank  became  lower  and  lower,  the  un- 
marred  whiteness  of  fields  followed,  broken 
only  by  the  projecting  posts  of  fences. 
Mademoiselle  turned  to  her  left.  Philippa 
could  not  have  told  they  had  reached  the  Little 
River.  But  soon  they  came  to  the  overarch- 
ing trees  that  fringed  it.  It  was  almost  like 
going  into  a  tunnel. 

It  seemed  incredible  it  could  be  the  bed  of 
the  chattering  little  stream  they  were  treading 
on ;  the  silence  was  unbroken  except  for  them- 
selves, and  they  unconsciously  hushed  their 
own  voices  that  sounded  deafening  in  the 
soundlessness ;  Philippa's  laugh  was  like  a 
cannonade  which  would  arouse  all  of  the  tiny 
wood  creatures  into  fear  that  their  strong- 
holds were  being  attacked.  They  fell  to  talk- 
ing almost  in  whispers.  And  yet  Philippa 
had  never  felt  such  sparkling  gayety  in  her 
life. 

Her  sense  of  well  being,  of  superabundant 
health  and  vigor,  was  so  perfect  that  she 
173 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

stared  at  Mademoiselle  in  stupefaction  when 
that  young  lady  suddenly  grabbed  up  a  hand- 
ful of  snow  and  began  vigorously  rubbing 
her  companion's  cheek.  At  first  Philippa 
thought  it  was  some  sudden,  extraordinary 
playfulness  of  Mademoiselle — nothing  of  the 
sort  could  be  really  impossible  that  day.  But 
the  gravity  and  sense  of  purpose  with  which 
the  chafing  was  done  soon  convinced  her  that 
Mademoiselle  was  not  being  frolicsome. 

"Wh-wha-what  ?"  she  gasped. 

"Your  cheek  was  frost-bitten.  If  I  hadn't 
rubbed  it  with  snow  it  would  have  been  really 
frozen." 

"But  it  couldn't  have  been."  Philippa 
spoke  half  indignantly.  "I  was  perfectly 
comfortable.  I  didn't  feel  anything  at  all." 

"Of  course  not.  You  never  do  feel  any- 
thing when  any  part  of  you  is  frozen;  it's 
when  it  thaws  out  that  it's  painful." 

"But  how  could  you  tell?" 

"Your  cheek,  from  being  red,  turned  per- 
fectly white.  Whenever  you  see  the  cheek 
or  nose  of  anyone  you  are  walking  with  turn 
white,  you  must  do  what  I  did.  If  there  isn't 
any  ice  or  snow  within  reach,  use  cold  water." 

"Gosh !"  Philippa  was  much  impressed.    "I 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

didn't  realize  that  anything  could  happen  to 
you  on  a  day  like  this." 

"It's  when  the  woods  in  winter  are  most 
beautiful  that  they  are  the  most  dangerous." 

"I  wouldn't  be  surprised  at  anything  we 
would  discover  to-day,"  Philippa  said,  after  a 
time.  "Nobody  has  been  here  before  us 
to-day.  It's  so  new.  Anything  might 
happen." 

"Think  of  the  'coureurs  de  bois'  going  on 
like  this,  day  after  day,  week  after  week, 
through  country  that  was  absolutely  strange 
to  them  and  that  held  death  from  Indian  or 
wild  beast  in  wait  for  them  unless  they  were 
almost  superhumanly  alert  and  powerful." 

They  had  come  to  a  spot  where  the  trees 
on  either  side  of  their  white  causeway  were 
tall  and  stately.  A  turn  in  the  stream  walled 
them  in  with  great  arches  where  the  white 
tracery  on  intertwining  limbs  were  like  intri- 
cate vaulting  in  a  Gothic  cathedral.  Philippa 
stood  still  and  looked  about  her  with  awe  in 
her  face. 

"I  wonder Would  just  the  need  to 

make  a  living  keep  them  at  it.  Might  they 
not  have  felt — this  ?  Wouldn't  that  be  a  sort 
of  religion?" 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"Perhaps  it  would."  Mademoiselle  looked 
at  the  girl  beside  her  with  surprise.  That 
was  a  side  of  the  American  girl  she  had  not 
encountered  before. 

They  were  rather  silent  on  the  way  back. 

Just  as  they  turned  the  corner  they  had  an 
encounter,  Mr.  Ross  Cuthbert,  looking  no- 
tably handsome  in  rough  tweed  knicker- 
bockers, shaggy  mackinaw,  fur  cap,  heavy 
ribbed  woolen  stockings  and  moccasins, 
came  striding  toward  them  on  snowshoes. 
He  bowed  to  them  both  with  some  constraint, 
although,  as  Philippa  opened  the  flood-gates 
of  her  conversation  on  him,  he  talked  very 
pleasantly  to  her.  When  they  reached  the 
Chateau  Mademoiselle  said,  hastily: 

"Now  run  in  quickly,  Phileepa,  so  you  can 
change  your  stockings  if  they  are  the  least  bit 
wet  before  luncheon." 

Philippa,  a  little  irritated  at  being  dismissed 
in  this  manner,  did  not  obey  with  any  remark- 
able speed  and  not  without  a  backward  glance. 
She  heard  the  young  man  say : 

"But  I  thought  you  would  surely  be  there. 
And  this  is  the  first  snowshoeing  of  the  year. 
Perhaps  you  have  forgotten  that  it  was 

last " 

176 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"Oh,  I  wonder  if  Mr.  Ross  Cuthbert  has 
been  out  to  the  Manor.  I'm  so  sorry  we 
didn't  keep  on.  It  would  have  been  ever  so 
much  fun."  Philippa  was  much  pleased  with 
herself  at  the  way  she  had  sustained  the  con- 
versation. "It's  much  easier  to  talk  to 
grown-up  men  than  to  boys.  What  an  egg 
that  Sam  Boulden  was  the  day  we  went  row- 
ing. But  Mademoiselle  can't  be  accustomed 
to  talk  much  to  young  men;  I  guess  she 
doesn't  have  much  experience.  It's  a  shame 
she  should  be  so  sort  of  stiff  and  constrained 
when  she  does  meet  one.  I'm  sure  if  she 
would  be  as  nice  and  jolly  to  them  as  she  is 
to  us  girls  sometime  one  of  them  would  really 
fall  in  love  with  her." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

AT  the  conclusion  of  the  class  in  sight 
-«!  translation  one  day  Madame  made  a 
little  announcement.  On  the  coming  Friday 
evening  there  was  to  be  a  soiree,  the  first  of  the 
year,  to  which  the  people  of  Lanoraie  were  to 
be  invited.  Mademoiselle  Mimi  was  prepar- 
ing a  musical  program  in  which  certain  of  her 
students  would  take  part;  Madame  herself 
was  to  give  a  little  impersonation.  At  this 
point  Philippa  interrupted,  saying:  "Oh, 

that'll  be  trick.  I  just  know "  and  then 

crimsoned  with  embarrassment  because  the 
girls  were  regarding  her  with  amazement. 
Madame,  however,  smiled  at  her  in  under- 
standing sympathy  and  went  on  outlining  the 
program.  She  would  like  to  have  some  scenes 
from  the  play  they  had  just  read  given  in 
French,  and  would  like  to  have  Philippa  and 
Helen  take  part " 

"Oh,  but,  Madame,"  Philippa  burst  out, 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"I'd  just  love  to  do  it  if  it  were  only  in  Eng- 
lish. But  I  don't  believe  I  could  in  French. 
Why,  I  get  all  twisted  up  in  the  simplest 
sentences  every  little  while!  I'd  break  down 
and  spoil  it  all." 

"I  think  not,  Phileepa,"  Madame  smiled. 
"I  wouldn't  ask  you  if  I  thought  you  couldn't. 
And  Helen  will  help  you.  Helen  has  been  our 
stand-by  with  our  little  plays." 

Afterward  Philippa  wondered  whether 
Madame  had  planned  it  or  if  it  was  one  of  the 
things  that  just  happened,  that  Helen  Odell 
was  drawn  back  into  the  little  circle  of  school 
life  by  means  of  the  dramatics.  Certainly, 
nothing  had  interested  her  in  the  school  life 
before  that  year.  And  she  was  definitely  in- 
terested in  the  play.  In  going  over  their  lines 
together  in  the  evenings  after  school,  some- 
thing of  the  old  intimacy  was  restored.  There 
were  cozy  times  in  Helen's  luxurious  rooms; 
sometimes  there  were  little  feasts  over  the 
good  things  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Odell  sent,  by 
the  hamperful,  every  week.  And  the  good 
times  were  more  wholesome,  somehow,  than 
the  ones  at  the  beginning  of  their  friendship, 
when  Philippa,  after  an  evening  of  feverish 
confidences  from  Helen,  would  steal  off  to 
179 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

her  own  room,  feeling  vaguely  that  she  had 
been  doing  something  wrong. 

The  soiree  began  to  be  the  all-absorbing 
center  of  life  at  the  Chateau.  Even  Helen 
Odell,  scorning  herself  all  the  while  for  being 
interested  in  anything  so  trivial  when  she  had 
her  romance  to  agonize  over,  was  excited. 
She  had  a  genuine  literary  interest  and  she 
loved  anything  approaching  the  dramatic. 
As  for  Philippa,  except  at  stated  intervals, 
when  letters  from  home  brought  the  inevitable 
wave  of  longing  for  home,  life  in  the  little 
French  school  in  the  tiny  town  of  Lanoraie, 
in  the  heart  of  French  Canada,  was  fast  ab- 
sorbing all  of  her  vivid  interest.  The  little 
humors,  pleasures,  disappointments  of  every- 
day filled  her  horizon.  A  good  recitation  sent 
her  away  from  class  happy ;  a  poor  one  fright- 
fully depressed  her.  Increasingly  friendly 
relations  with  Margaret  Dixon  pleased  her 
immensely,  although  she  never  ceased  con- 
templating Margaret  with  the  curious  respect 
which  one  accords  to  some  admirable  but  un- 
familiar piece  of  mechanism.  Margaret  in- 
fallibly did  everything  that  was  exactly  oppo- 
site to  what  Philippa  would  have  done  under 
the  same  circumstances.  Bertha  Ross's  evi- 

180 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

dent  liking  for  her  made  another  strong  in- 
terest ;  it  was  such  fun  to  go  adventuring  day 
by  day  deeper  into  a  new  friendship.  By  de- 
grees she  was  beginning  to  know  all  the  girls ; 
it  was  a  question  to  be  exhaustively  debated 
whether  Jean  Ogilvie  or  Ruth  Jamison  was  in 
the  right  in  their  recent  disagreement;  and 
she  could  hardly  get  to  sleep  one  night  because 
the  little  Turner  girl  had  a  sore  throat  which 
someone  thought  might  be  diphtheria. 

So  Philippa's  heart  beat  fast  with  excite- 
ment as  she  put  on  her  afternoon  dress  for 
dinner  the  evening  of  the  soiree;  a  caucus  of 
the  girls  had  previously  decided  that  they 
would  dress  before  rather  than  after  dinner, 
although  Effie  White  had  come  out  strong  in 
opposition.  As  Philippa  dressed  she  went  des- 
perately over  her  lines,  saying  out  loud  phrases 
that  especially  troubled  her ;  carrying  the  final 
consonant  of  one  word  over  to  the  next  word 
when  it  began  with  a  vowel  was  one  of  the 
things  that  she  often  tripped  up  on.  At  din- 
ner she  couldn't  eat  much  because  her  heart 
was  beating  so  hard  it  seemed  to  fill  up  all  the 
space  in  her  interior  so  snugly  that  there  was 
no  room  for  food.  Evening  prayers  she 
hardly  realized  had  been  held;  the  interim 
181 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

between  prayers  and  the  coming  of  the  guests 
was  filled  in  with  snatches  of  rehearsals  that 
convinced  everybody  concerned  that  their 
parts  were  going  to  be  a  complete  failure. 

Yet,  Madame,  introducing  her  flock  to  the 
village  dignitaries  as  they  straggled  in,  was 
conscious  of  a  passing  disrespectful  mental 
comment  to  the  effect  that  she  much  preferred 
the  appearance  of  the  rosy,  bright-eyed  girls 
to  the  august  ones,  awe  of  whom  was  making 
the  bosoms  of  her  pupils  palpitate  and  the 
faces  flush.  In  their  simple  dainty  frocks  of 
crepe  or  taffeta,  much  less  extreme  in  cut  than 
would  have  prevailed  at  any  place  but  the 
Chateau,  with  an  extra  perfection  as  to  ar- 
rangement of  their  hair  and  a  deeper  flush 
upon  their  cheeks  than  would  have  been  true 
at  another  time,  they  filled  her  with  pride. 

"Mes  cheres  petites  enfants"  she  thought 
to  herself ;  she  always  made  such  confidences 
to  herself  in  French.  "By  how  much  is  their 
very  bashful  awkwardness  more  pleasing 
than  the  firm  assurance  of  my  neighbors  that 
no  one  can  approach  them  who  is  not  an 
inferior."  And  Madame,  even  Madame  who 
was  actually  in  the  eyes  of  her  girls  incapable 
of  human  error,  had  much  ado  to  keep  from 

182 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

laughing  when  Mrs.  Austin — who  had  been 
a  Cuthbert — bestowed  an  inclination  of  the 
head  upon  Bertha  Ross  that  was  little  short 
of  an  apostolic  benediction. 

Philippa,  although  she  didn't  realize  it  until 
afterward,  was  possessed  of  a  sort  of  dual 
personality  that  evening.  With  one  side  of 
her  she  groveled  in  spirit  before  the  august 
ones.  With  the  other,  she  was  racking  her 
brains  to  remember  whether  any  of  her  moth- 
er's friends  had  ever  sat  metaphorically  upon 
a  dais  as  Mrs.  Austin  and  Mrs.  Benham, 
her  cousin,  did. 

Why  at  home,  even  that  lady  whose  hus- 
band is  in  the  Cabinet  was  just  nice  and 
chummy.  And  she  was  rich  and  'way  up  in 
the  Administration'  'n'  everything  and  her 
family  always  had  been  like  that,  ever  so  far 
back.  And  there's  Jeff's  father.  He  was 
written  up  in  the  paper  as  one  of  the  most  in- 
fluential men  in  the  Senate.  Just  try  to 
think  of  him  looking  as  pompous  as  that  old 
Colonel  Somebody !  But  somehow  these  peo- 
ple almost  make  you  think  they  are  great  and 
important.  You  have  to  treat  them  the  way 
they  think  of  themselves — it's  right  down 
queer.  They  come  into  the  room  as  if  they 
13  183 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

knew  only  too  well  that  everybody  would  be 
watching  them;  and  they  speak  to  Madame 
and  each  other  as  if  everything  they  said  was 
so  important  it  was  going  to  be  telegraphed 
all  over  by  the  Associated  Press  (I  think 
that's  what  sent  the  news  around  about 
Daddy's  bill).  It  makes  me  think  of 
Cranf  ord " 

At  this  point  Philippa's  observations  ceased, 
for  Mr.  Ross  Cuthbert  came  into  the  room. 

"I  certainly  would  never  have  expected  him 
to  come,"  she  thought,  much  fluttered.  "I 
wish  I'd  gone  up  to  the  attic  and  got  my 
other  afternoon  dress  out  of  the  trunk.  Any- 
body would  think  I  was  seventeen  in  that 
dress." 

Mr.  Ross  Cuthbert  was  in  evening  clothes 
and  looked  really  distinguished.  "Now  he 
does  look  as  if  he  was  a  little  better  than  other 
people;  but  not  as  if  he  thought  he  was.  I 
wonder  how  he  can  stay  in  a  little  place  like 
this  now  that  his  arm  is  out  of  the  sling.  I 
shouldn't  think  there  would  be  much  to  do 
here  and  I'm  sure  he  isn't  rich.  And  that  suit 
can't  be  new  because  it  isn't  pinched  in  at  the 
waist  like  Bayard's.  Bayard  said  they  all 
had  to  be  that  way  now.  Maybe  men  don't 

184 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

have  the  same  fashions  in  Canada.  Anyway 
he  looks  stunning.  Oh,  he  is  coming  over 
here  to  speak  to  me — what  will  the  girls 
think?" 

The  young  man's  smile  was  very  pleasant 
as  he  began  to  ask  Philippa  whether  she  had 
ever  been  snowshoeing  before  the  day  he  had 
met  her  with  Mademoiselle,  and  how  she  liked 
it.  Philippa,  immensely  flattered,  was  per- 
fectly ready  to  tell  him  minutely  all  she  had 
ever  thought  or  experienced  in  the  matter  of 
snowshoeing.  Out  of  the  corner  of  her  eye 
she  could  see  that  the  girls  near  her  were 
unable  to  keep  their  eyes  from  wandering  in 
her  direction.  She  passionately  wished  that 
he  would  sit  down  beside  her.  When  he  did 
finally  commit  that  radical  act  her  conversa- 
tional powers  were,  for  the  moment,  quite 
paralyzed,  so  filled  was  she  with  pride  and 
vain-glory.  The  music,  which  began  the  pro- 
gram, lessened  the  strain  of  holding  up  her 
end  of  the  polite  dialogue.  She  had  all  the 
glory  of  her  unique  position  without  the 
crushing  responsibility. 

The  Turner  sisters,  cold  with  fear,  opened 
the  program  with  a  piano  duet.  As  they  pro- 
ceeded and,  contrary  to  their  fears,  did  not 
185 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

break  down,  the  tense  expression  of  their 
faces  relaxed,  and  they  wound  up  in  a  perfect 
thunder  of  happy  noise,  bowing,  with  gratified 
red  faces,  their  appreciation  of  the  applause. 
The  only  violinist  of  the  school  followed ;  and 
Philippa,  one  of  whose  classes  was  in  a  room 
adjoining  the  music  room  and  who  hence  had 
reason  to  fear  the  sounds  that  proceed  from 
that  violin,  was  immensely  relieved  when  the 
selection  concluded  and  there  had  been  only 
a  few  notes  to  make  the  sensitive  shiver.  Flora 
Brundage  sang  very  sweetly.  At  the  conclu- 
sion of  her  song  Philippa  led  a  rapturous  and 
determined  clapping. 

"Do  clap  as  hard  as  you  can,"  she  said, 
aside  to  Mr.  Ross  Cuthbert.  "It'll  be  good 
for  her.  She's  so  homesick  that  she  cries  all 
the  time." 

But  when  Flora  came  back  to  sing  a  second 
time  Philippa  was  sorry  she  had  been  instru- 
mental in  getting  her  an  encore.  Flora  elected 
to  sing,  "Home,  Sweet  Home."  Knowing  it 
was  just  a  question  of  time  when  Flora's  tears 
would  begin  to  flow,  Philippa,  after  exchang- 
ing a  significant  glance  with  the  young  man, 
braced  herself  to  await  the  inevitable. 
It  came  before  Flora  had  progressed  more 

186 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

than  two  or  three  bars.  Filling  eyes — waver- 
ing voice — heartbroken  sobs — Flora  pro- 
gressed through  all  three  stages  before  she 
was  finally  led  from  the  room  by  Mademoi- 
selle, who  was  the  accompanist.  But  all  the 
Lanoraie  ladies  clapped  heartily  to  cover  her 
retreat,  exchanging  glances  of  heartfelt  sym- 
pathy and  approval : 

"Poor  girl !  Poor  girl — eh-h-h !"  they  said, 
a  note  of  melancholy  approbation  in  their 
voices. 

"Now  I  think  Flora  is  just  silly,"  thought 
Philippa,  in  much  disgust  at  this  blot  on  the 
evening.  If  Mrs.  Cherton  had  been  able  to 
come  this  evening  she'd  see  how  funny  it  is. 
If  Flora  can't  stop  bawling  all  the  time  she 
ought  not  to  stay  here,  even  if  her  father  and 
mother  have  gone  off  missionarying  some- 
where where  they  can't  take  her.  If  she's  got 
to  stay  she  ought  to  learn  to  control  herself 
better." 

Then  some  one  gave  a  gasp.  A  queer  figure 
had  entered  the  rooms,  somebody  who  wore 
Angelique's  familiar  Sunday  clothes  donned 
usually  only  to  go  to  mass.  But  the  face  under 
the  dreary  purple  hat  was  undoubtedly 
Madame's.  Yet — somehow — it  was  An- 
187 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

gelique  who,  gesticulating  violently  with 
hands,  arms,  shoulders,  burst  into  a  flood  of 
Canuck  French,  her  voice  a  perfect  replica 
of  Angelique's  strident  guttural.  The  theme 
of  the  discourse  was  a  dissertation — from 
the  angle  of  Angelique — on  certain  character- 
istics, not  only  of  the  young  ladies  of  the  Cha- 
teau but  of  the  Lanoraie  notables  gathered 
before  her.  Delicious  fun  it  was;  but  the 
sly  digs  were  always  at  some  minor  peculiar- 
ity; there  was  nothing  harsh  or  cruel.  As 
each  girl  received  her  own  particular  thrust 
she  giggled  rapturously;  Angelique,  in  the 
doorway,  watching  the  travesty  of  herself, 
was  the  most  delighted  of  all.  The  August 
Ones  laughed  as  helplessly  as  the  rest.  But 
the  most  extraordinary  thing  of  all  was  to  see 
Madame,  while  reminiscent  ripples  of  amuse- 
ment were  still  going  round  the  room,  re- 
enter,  in  her  soft  black  frock,  demurely  remote 
as  ever. 

"Gosh,"  Philippa  thought.  "I  didn't  know 
she  was  like  that.  Why — she's  got  so  many 
different  kinds  of  things  in  her." 

At  this  moment  Madame  signaled  to  Phil- 
ippa that  it  was  time  for  her  scene  from  Mo- 
liere's  "Le  Bourgeois  Gentilhomme"  with 

188 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Helen  Odell.  The  costume  that  was  to  be 
donned  to  change  Philippa  into  Monsieur 
Jourdain  was  a  man's  dressing  gown  and  a 
pair  of  huge  carpet  slippers.  And  Helen,  by 
dint  of  assuming  a  man's  overcoat  and  a  tall 
silk  hat  stood  revealed  as  the  learned 
sycophant  who  had  come  to  teach  the  bourgeois 
gentilhomme  de  la  grammaire. 

The  audience  sat  back  in  patient  expecta- 
tion of  the  usual  boredom  when  two  school- 
girls, struggling  with  a  foreign  language,  pro- 
ceed more  or  less  painfully  through  a  conven- 
tional little  act.  But  soon  they  were  sitting 
up  in  surprised  interest.  Philippa  was  actu- 
ally funny ;  even  in  the  guise  of  the  rosy  young 
girl  they  could  see  the  simple,  vulgar,  incred- 
ibly gullible  little  man,  enchanted  to  learn  that, 
without  knowing  how  accomplished  he  was, 
he  had  been  speaking  all  his  life  that  which 
he  had  supposed  was  the  art  of  the  literary 
elect — "prose."  And  Helen,  as  the  penniless 
charlatan,  preying  on  the  rich  plebeian's  cred- 
ulity, gave  a  real  impersonation.  The  girls 
kept  their  audience  alert  and  interested  and 
drew  hearty  laughs.  They  had  to  come  back 
at  the  end  and  bow,  hand  in  hand,  in  response 
to  surprisingly  full  applause. 
189 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

When  Philippa  returned  to  the  room,  she 
darted  a  glance  at  the  place  that  Mr.  Ross 
Cuthbert  had  occupied  to  see  whether  he  was 
still  there.  To  prove  that  he  was,  he  came 
smilingly  forward  to  congratulate  her  and 
ask  if  he  could  not  get  her  some  refreshments. 

Philippa,  trying  not  to  show  how  flattered 
she  was,  permitted  him  to  serve  her. 

"I  always  thought  girls  were  silly  to  want 
to  grow  up  and  have  attention,"  she  thought 
while  he  was  absent.  "But  it  really  is  much 
nicer  than  I  had  supposed  it  was."  The  girls 
began  to  come  up  and  tell  her  how  well  she 
had  done.  Her  dramatic  success  and  Mr. 
Ross  Cuthbert's  notice  of  her  made  the 
smaller  girls  look  at  her  with  positive  awe, 
the  older  girls  with  some  envy.  Philippa 
wasn't  a  bit  displeased.  She  was  very  kind 
to  them,  and  friendly.  But  her  mind  was  far 
away,  building  a  romance  for  herself  in  which 
Mr.  Ross  Cuthbert  figured.  A  fervid  heroine 
of  modern  fiction  would  probably  not  have 
considered  it  a  romance  at  all.  It  consisted 
of  various  nebulous  scenes  wherein  the 
young  Seigneur  should  show  an  increasing 
appreciation  of  the  qualities  and  charms  that 
Philippa — now  that  she  was  castle  building  in 
190 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

earnest — was  quite  sure  she  possessed.  It 
consisted  of  the  mental  rehearsal  of  dialogues 
in  which  there  were  many  pretty  speeches — 
founded  on  the  best  types  of  romance  on  the 
part  of  Mr.  Cuthbert  and  various  witty  and 
coquettish  retorts  compounded  of  the  style 
of  repartee  of  Philippa's  favorite  heroines  as 
well  as  of  Philippa's  own  rapidly  envolving 
sense  of  the  effective.  There  were  glimpses 
of  various  poetic  and  highly  flattering  scenes 
culminating  in  a  spectacular  church  wedding 
in  which  the  bride's  dress  and  the  color 
scheme  of  the  bridesmaids'  frocks  were  far 
more  distinct  than  the  expression  on  the 
groom's  face;  and  the  final  scene  ended 
sharply  with  the  donning  of  an  extraordi- 
narily smart  traveling  suit  and  driving  off 
accompanied  by  the  most  beautiful  black 
leather  traveling  bag  and  the  most  slenderly 
rolled  silk  umbrella  that  the  mind  of  mortal 
can  conceive,  a  huge  brass-studded  wardrobe 
trunk  having  gone  on  before.  That  going- 
away  taxi  was  so  pervaded  by  the  fragrance 
of  expensive  leather  that  there  was  no  place 
in  it  for  anything  but  a  highly  compact  and 
inactive  lay  figure  of  a  bridegroom. 

Still  the  vision  was  concrete  enough  to 
191 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

make  her  blush  a  little  when  Mr.  Cuthbert 
returned  with  a  cup  of  chocolate — with 
whipped  cream  on  it — and  a  fairly  satisfac- 
tory collection  of  sandwiches  and  cakes. 
Being  really  very  hungry,  Philippa  forgot  her 
romance  completely  and  omitted  to  drop  the 
pearls  of  conversation  in  the  young  man's 
way  that  should  prove  to  him  what  a  highly 
superior  girl  of  fifteen  she  was — practically 
seventeen  in  fact.  When  her  hunger  was 
partially  satisfied,  however,  she  could  not  fail 
to  notice  that  the  young  Seigneur  was  begin- 
ning to  look  rather  distrait  and  not  a  little 
glum.  At  last  he  gave  a  perceptible  start  and 
forgetting  Philippa  altogether,  made  for  the 
hall  in  which  the  figure  of  Mademoiselle  was 
momentarily  disclosed.  As  he  joined  her  the 
upward  look,  half  blissful,  half  reproachful 
which  she  gave  him,  and  the  hunger  which 
made  its  way  through  the  trained  impassive- 
ness  of  his  English  face,  brought  enlighten- 
ment even  to  Philippa's  childish  mind,  clogged 
as  it  was  with  her  vain  and  fanciful  little 
dreams.  She  couldn't  help  watching  them. 
Mademoiselle,  on  her  way  out  into  the  pantry 
for  more  cakes,  much  flushed,  gave  a  guilty 
look  toward  Madame  in  the  drawing  room, 
192 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

shook  her  head  violently  at  the  young  man 
and  hurried  on.  With  a  determined  scowl 
he  strode  after  her.  A  glance  at  Madame 
showed  her  perturbed. 

"Why — they're  in  love  with  each  other — 
Mademoiselle  and  Mr.  Ross  Cuthbert!  But 
why  don't  they  come  out  and  show  it  to  every- 
body? And  why  do  they  look  so  unhappy 

about  it.  And  Madame,  too ?  He — said 

that  day  at  the  manor  that  Madame  wasn't  in 
the  habit  of  consulting  him  much.  And  he 
said  it  in  a  queer  sort  of  way — I  noticed  it 
at  the  time.  It's — it's  like  Helen — only  it 
can't  really  be  the  same  at  all.  Because 
Mr.  Ross  Cuthbert  is  all  right.  I  know  he 
is  fine.  But — but  that  means  he  doesn't 
like  me  at  all!  Well — what  did  he  pretend 
he  did  for?  Coming  up  to  me  and  talking 
to  me  before  everybody  and  bringing  me 
refreshments  and  sitting  by  me  'n'  every- 
thing ?  I — don't — think — it — was — a — bit — 
nice — of — him." 

Tears  were  very  near  her  eyes — but  anger 
at  the  idea  that  they  might  be  near  burned 
them  up.  The  idea  of  crying  over  anything 
like  that.  Suppose  anyone  should  think  she 
was!  Suppose  the  girls  thought  she  was 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

mashed  on  him — that  would  be  too  horrible 
for  words.    She'd  show  them. 

"No,  I  don't  believe  they  could  think  that." 
Saner  councils  prevailed.  "I'm  sure  I  never 
said  a  word  about  him  to  anybody.  And  I  can 
be  as  indifferent  as  anything  if  they  say  any- 
thing about  his  having  sat  by  me  all  the  even- 
ing." She  brightened  up.  The  cloud  was 
passing.  When  such  a  highly  nebulous 
romance  is  dissolved  there  isn't  much  pain 
about  it.  In  a  minute  Philippa  was  construct- 
ing a  new  one — strikingly  like  the  old  one,  it 
must  be  admitted — much  the  same  incidents 
— she  couldn't  change  her  mind  about  the 
wedding  dress  in  such  a  hurry — or  the  colors 
of  the  bridesmaids — only  now  she  wore  a 
bridesmaid's  dress  and  Mademoiselle  was  the 
bride.  And  there  was  a  very  agreeable  usher 
whom  she  was  to  walk  with,  well  furnished 
with  good-looking  clothes  and  very  nice  man- 
ners but  with  features  so  indistinct  that  he 
might  be  said  to  have  none.  Only  he  did  ap- 
preciate Philippa.  And  at  the  ball  that  fol- 
lowed the  wedding  he  wanted  to  dance  all  the 
dances  with  her.  And  the  guests  were  green 
with  envy. 


CHAPTER  XX 

TI7HEN  Philippa  opened  her  eyes  the  next 
V  V  morning — unwilling  for  some  minutes 
to  admit  that  it  was  really  the  rising  bell  that 
had  aroused  her — it  was  a  pervading  sense  of 
vacancy. 

"What  is  it  that's  the  matter?"  she  asked 
herself.  And  when  a  tide  of  recollection 
brought  her  discovery  of  Mr.  Ross  Cuthbert's 
interest  in  Mademoiselle,  Philippa  sighed  with 
an  intense  conviction  that  life  was  a  very  un- 
satisfactory business.  A  look  out  of  the  win- 
dow completed  her  disillusionment.  It  was 
darker  than  it  should  be  at  that  hour 

"Oh,  dear !  It's  going  to  rain.  I  know  it 
is.  And  there'll  be  no  more  snowshoeing. 
And  there'll  be  no  use  building  the  toboggan 
slide  Margaret  Dixon  was  going  to  start  to- 
day— Oh,  dear,  everything's  going  to  be  all 
horrible!" 

She  lay  still  for  a  longer  time  than  was  at 
i95 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

all  wise  after  the  rising  bell.  She  knew  it 
but  she  didn't  care.  She  was  in  a  sullen  mood 
of  dislike  for  everything.  For  some  weeks 
the  young  Seigneur  had  made  a  gallant  figure 
in  her  imagination ;  and  for  several  days  she 
had  been  quite  thrilled  about  him.  Life  was 
drab  without  that  center  of  interest.  The  ex- 
citement of  discovering  that  Mademoiselle 
was  having  a  romance  was  gone;  she  liked 
Mademoiselle  Mimi  very  much,  but  she 
couldn't  be  really  as  thrilled  thinking  about 
her  and  Mr.  Ross  Cuthbert  as  she  had  been 
in  thinking  about  Mr.  Ross  Cuthbert  and  her- 
self. And  the  usher  at  their  wedding  who  was 
to  be  so  crazy  about  Philippa  was  unconvinc- 
ingly  dim  this  morning. 

"And  if  I  don't  get  up  now  I'll  be  late  to 
breakfast  and  be  marked  down  in  attend- 
ance," she  thought  vindictively.  "The  same 
dreary  old  round  of  things  will  have  to  begin 
all  over  again." 

At  breakfast  there  was  a  sudden  wave  of 
Christmas  plans.  Christmas  was  now  little 
more  than  two  weeks  off,  but  excitement  over 
snowshoeing  and  the  soiree  had  kept  Christ- 
mas a  little  in  the  background.  But  this  morn- 
ing, apparently,  nobody  could  think  about 

196 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

anything  else.  Philippa  at  first  was  inclined 
to  be  superior  to  such  childish  enthu- 
siasm, and  blase.  But  the  breakfast  was  ex- 
cellent and  she  was  hungry  and  soon  she 
caught  fire  and  was  boasting  about  all  the 
thrilling  things  that  were  going  to  happen 
when  she  went  home  for  the  holidays  every 
time  Margaret  Dixon  and  Effie  White  let  her 
get  anything  in. 

Naturally  she  waited  for  the  morning  mail 
with  thrilled  expectation.  By  now  plans  for 
the  holiday  parties  would  be  being  made; 
perhaps  the  girls  would  be  writing  her  about 
them ;  certainly  there  would  be  a  letter  from 
Muzz  who  hadn't  written  for  several  days. 
When  Madame  handed  Philippa  quite  a  satis- 
factory bunch  of  letters,  the  girl  retired  joy- 
fully to  her  room  to  read  them. 

"Maybe  when  I  go  home  I  can  stay."  It 
really  did  seem  as  if  her  heart  leaped  at  the 
thought. 

The  one  from  her  mother  she  opened  first. 
At  the  beginning  it  referred  mysteriously  to 
"Doreen's  news"  which,  it  said,  "Doreen 
would  tell  herself."  Philippa  glanced  at  Dor- 
een's letter  but  decided  to  finish  Mother's  first. 
But,  as  she  read  on,  her  eyes  widened  in  incred- 
197 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

ulous  horror.  "Of  course,  I've  got  to  go  home 
Christmas.  Why— if  I  didn't— what'd  I  do? 
I  couldn't  live  through  Christmas  up  here 
away  from  the  family — They  can't  want  me 
to  come  very  much  or  they  wouldn't  think  of 
such  a  thing — I'll  write  right  away  and  tell 
them  that  I've  got  to  come !" 

She  read  the  letter  over  again  hoping  that 
her  mother  had  spoken  less  positively  than  she 
had  at  first  thought.  But  she  couldn't  gather 
any  encouragement.  This  incredible  thing 
was  true.  She  couldn't  go  home  Christmas. 
There  wouldn't  be  any  Christmas  in  their  own 
dear  house,  any  Christmas  tree,  any  hanging 
up  of  stockings — anything.  Bayard  wouldn't 
be  home.  The  house  would  be  closed.  She 
said  this  over  and  over  to  herself  to  make  its 
desolation  seem  real. 

She  had  not  seen  her  Grandmother  Gale 
for  a  long  time  so  she  could  not,  perhaps,  be 
expected  to  feel  much  grief  at  the  thought 
she  was  so  very  ill.  At  first  she  just  thought 
of  herself. 

"I  don't  believe  I  can  possibly  stand  it," 
she  said  over  and  over. 

But — All  at  once  she  remembered  that  her 
mother  had  said  something  about  Doreen,  and 

198 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

about  La's  family  "naturally  wanting"  her. 
That  was  queer. 

"I  suppose  I'd  better  read  Doreen's  letter." 

Perhaps  there  was  some  sort  of  premoni- 
tion in  Philippa's  mind  for  she  read  Doreen's 
news  almost  indifferently. 

"I  suppose  I  might  have  known  that  Doreen 
would  get  engaged  to  La'.  It's  just  somebody 
else  who  isn't  going  to  care  anything  about 
me  any  more.  Every  single  thing  in  the  world 
is  changed." 

By  this  time  she  had  reached  the  very  bot- 
tom of  her  cup  of  sorrow.  She  couldn't  waste 
any  more  wonder  or  emotion.  The  end  of  all 
hope  had  come.  She  sat  looking  drearily 
ahead  of  her.  When  the  tears  started  to  come 
she  forced  them  back.  "It  won't  do  any  good. 
And  there's  nobody  to  care — much."  Madame 
would  care.  But  it  would  just  be  some  more 
work  for  her  to  do,  getting  me  straightened 
out.  And  that  wouldn't  be  fair.  She  has 
enough.  Probably  she's  worried  about  Made- 
moiselle. Everybody's  worried  about  some- 
body— I  suppose  Daddy  and  Muzz  wouldn't 
feel  comfortable  if  they  didn't  go  to  Grand- 
mother Gale  when  she's  so  ill.  They  have  to. 
They  can't  help  thinking  of  her  instead  of 

14  199 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

me.  But  there  isn't  anyone  to  go  to  her — not 
really.  I've  got  to  stand  it  by  myself." 

It  was  a  strange  hour  that  Philippa  spent 
sitting  alone  in  the  little  room  that  had  already 
become  a  sort  of  part  of  herself.  She  looked 
straight  out  through  the  window,  the  rest  of 
her  letters,  from  the  girls,  lying  unopened  in 
her  lap.  She  didn't  dare  open  them  yet.  Of 
course,  they  would  be  all  about  the  Christ- 
mas parties  unless  they  already  knew  she 
wasn't  coming  home ;  and  if  Anne  'n'  Virginia 
knew  that  the  letters  would  be  full  of  lamenta- 
tions. She  couldn't  stand  either  thing. 

So  she  didn't  think  very  much,  perhaps. 
But  she  did  keep  herself  from  crying.  She 
stared  straight  ahead  of  her  just  feeling  con- 
scious of  an  ache  that  meant  a  sorrow  that 
seemed  to  her  too  big  to  be  borne,  but  that  she 
was  conscious  that  she  was  somehow  bearing, 
after  a  time  without  much  outcry  or  great 
bitterness — the  very  first  sorrow  she  had  ever 
faced  alone. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

"J  If  HAT  is  it  that's  wrong?"  Philippa 
V V  asked  herself  the  next  morning  in  that 
instant,  after  the  first  instinctive  groping 
after  mislaid  happiness,  when  one  asks  one- 
self the  meaning  of  a  lurking  sense  of  tragedy. 
Then  it  all  came  back  to  her. 

"I  suppose  I  can  live  through  Christmas 
somehow,"  she  told  herself,  soberly.  Then 
she  turned  over  and  hid  her  face  in  the  pillow 
and  lay  silent  a  long  time. 

There  was  not  much  pleasure  in  lying  in 
bed  that  morning,  although  generally  it  was 
a  matter  of  congratulation  when  she  woke  up 
early  enough  to  experience  the  luxury  of  an 
extra  nap.  So  she  was  dressed,  and  all  of  the 
before-breakfast  chores  done,  and  settled  in  a 
rather  gray  mood  at  her  algebra,  when  there 
came  a  tap  at  the  door.  It  was  Bertha  Ross, 
her  pretty  face  all  flushed  with  excitement. 

"Look  here,  Philippa,"  she  said,  evidently 
201 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

not  taking  any  chances  on  having  her  courage 
get  away  from  her  before  she  had  carried  out 
her  purpose,  "is  there  any  chance  at  all  of 
your  not  getting  home  for  Christmas  ?" 

"Why,  what  made  you  ask  that?"  Philippa 
was  staring  straight  at  Bertha  in  complete 
surprise. 

"Something  Madame  said — perhaps  it  was 
something  your  mother  wrote  her — made  me 
think  there  might  be — I  don't  know — I  just 
had  a  feeling  about  it.  And  I  had  been  think- 
ing that  I  would  just  love  to  have  you.  So — 
I  just  had  to  come  right  in  and  ask  you." 

"Oh,  but  I  can't  go.  I Maybe  I  can. 

Oh,  it's  just  almost  funny  that  you  should 

have  when  I  was  feeling '  She  didn't 

finish  her  sentence,  but  Bertha  understood. 
"I  just  had  a  letter  saying  my  mother  and 
father  would  have  to  go  away.  It's  the  first 
Christmas  I  ever  remember " 

Wise  little  Bertha  felt  that  this  was  the 
moment  to  explain  to  Philippa  just  what  sort 
of  a  place  she  might  be  going  to. 

"You  see,  I  live  in  the  country,"  she  said, 
looking  at  Philippa  a  little  apologetically. 

"That's  trick." 

By  this  time  Bertha  had  learned  "trick" 
202 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

was  a  term  of  rapturous  approval.  She  looked 
relieved. 

"Well,  you  know,  some  of  the  girls  here 
look  down  on  people  who  live  in  the  country." 

"It's  the  only  way  to  live,"  Philippa  said, 
with  calm  conviction.  "When  I'm  grown  up 
I'll  never  live  any  other  place.  And  I've  al- 
ways been  mad  to  be  in  the  country  in  the 
winter — oh,  boy,  but  it'll  be  great !" 

Bertha  curled  herself  up  on  Philippa's  bed 
with  great  content. 

"We  really  do  have  awfully  good  times," 
she  said,  eagerly.  "Especially  at  Christmas 
time.  You  see,  Bostwick  is  just  a  little  settle- 
ment of  English  families ;  it  isn't  even  a  town, 
just  about  twenty  estates  strung  along  the 
road  half  a  mile  or  so  apart.  We  get  our  mail 
at  Sainte  Melanie,  which  is  three  or  four  miles 
away,  but  we  are  all  English  people  who  have 
lived  there  for  generations.  We  have  our 
own  church,  and  tutors  and  governesses  teach 
us  until  we  are  old  enough  to  go  away  to 
school.  And,  do  you  know,  my  father,  who 
has  been  in  England  a  lot — he  has  some  prop- 
erty over  there — says  we  are  more  English 
than  the  English  people.  He  says  we've  been 
'stiff  necked'  enough  to  keep  alive  many  of  the 
203 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

old  customs  that  have  been  forgotten  in  Eng- 
land— in  many  parts  of  England,  anyway. 
And  we  come  out  strong  at  Christmas " 

"Oh,  do  you  have  Christmas  waits  and  a 
Yule-log  'n'  everything?" 

"We  certainly  do.  And  the  roast  pig  with 
an  apple  in  his  mouth  and  plum  pudding 
brought  in  with  the  brandy  blazing  all  around 
it.  And  everybody  gives  parties  during 
holiday  week.  And  I'm  the  only  young 
girl  in  the  whole  place  just  now  who  is 
away  at  school,  so  everybody  does  things 
for  me." 

"Oh,  then  I'll  probably  wear  my  party 
dress " 

"You'd  just  better  bring  everything  like 
that  you've  got.  The  chances  are  that  every- 
thing you  have  will  be  worn  to  ribbons,  danc- 
ing." 

"Oh,  what  fun!"  said  Philippa,  raptur- 
ously. Then  she  had  a  moment  of  uncomfor- 
table caution.  "But  you'll  have  to  wait,  won't 
you,  to  write  home  and  find  out  if  your  father 
'n'  mother  are  willing?" 

"No,  indeed !  They  said  I  could  invite  any- 
one Madame  would  agree  to.  And  I  know 
she'll  agree  to  you.  The  girls  are  all  getting 
204 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

jealous  of  you  because  Madame  thinks  you're 
just  about  the  nicest  girl  here " 

"Oh,  she  doesn't!"  Philippa  was  shocked 
and  yet  enchanted. 

"I'm  sure  she  does.  You  ought  to  hear  the 
lovely  things  she  says  about  you." 

"Oh,  tell  me!" 

"No,  I  don't  think  we  ought  to  repeat  things 
Madame  says.  She  doesn't  give  you  last-go 
swaps  you  know.  She's  different." 

"Yes,  I  know."  Philippa  was  rather  scan- 
dalized at  her  own  lack  of  delicacy,  and  liked 
Bertha  better  for  the  scruple.  "I  just  wanted 
to  know — I  knew  it  would  make  me  feel  bet- 
ter. I  was  just  awfully  blue  when  you  came 
in." 

"Oh,  if  that's  it!  I  think  you're  going  to 
be  one  of  the  most  popular  girls  in  the  school. 
I've  wanted  to  be  real  friends  with  you  from 
the  first,  but  you  seemed  so  awfully  clever. 
You  use  so  many  words  that  I  don't  know  at 
all." 

"Oh  dear !"  Philippa  laughed  disgustedly. 
"That  just  always  does  stand  in  my  way.  At 
home  I  had  an  awful  time  when  I  first  went  to 
school  because  the  girls  said  I  was  stuck  up. 
They  said  I  had  'swallowed  the  dictionary.' 
205 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

It  took  me  the  longest  time  to  live  it  down. 
It's  a  kind  of  family  failing,  I  suppose.  My 
father  is  an  awfully  silent  man,  generally. 
But  when  he  gets  started  on  anything  he  is 
really  interested  in  you  never  heard  anything 
like  the  flow  of  words.  He  never  hesitates — 
always  the  right  one,  you  know,  that  means 
exactly  what  he  wants  to  say.  He  doesn't  use 
the  words  that  everybody  is  using — you  know 
— the  same  word  for  everything.  He  says 
that's  lazy.  I  must  say,  I  do  that.  But  I  sup- 
pose I've  inherited  something  of  his  love  for 
words — or  just  absorbed  it.  Then,  too,  I  used 
to  do  nothing  but  read  at  one  time ;  and  words 
sort  of  stuck  to  me.  But  it's  stood  in  my  way 
lots  of  times,  you  know.  But,  honestly,  it 
doesn't  mean  that  I  know  anything,  you 
know." 

"I'm  so  glad  because  I  like  you  so  much  and 
I'm  not  very  clever  myself.  I  really  feel  as 
if  you  were  going  to  be  my  best  friend.  And 
I  know  you'll  have  a  good  time.  My  brother 
wrote  asking  me  to  be  sure  to  bring  a  girl  who 
had  some  go.  You  see,  last  year  I  took  an 
awfully  nice  girl  home  with  me,  but  she  was 
very  quiet  and  didn't  dance  very  well  or  talk 

much — didn't  keep  things  lively " 

206 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"I  know.  Didn't  have  any  'pep/  "  Phil- 
ippa's  face,  as  she  diagnosed  the  difficulty, 
was  as  grave  as  though  she  were  the  consult- 
ing physician  for  some  serious  malady.  She 
began  to  feel  that  she  had  a  great  responsi- 
bility. "Well,  I  hope  they  won't  be  disap- 
pointed in  me." 

"I'm  sure  they  won't.  Do  come  with  me 
and  ask  Madame  now." 

Philippa  caught  Bertha's  hand  and  held  it 
for  a  moment  just  as  she  was  ready  to  jump 
down  from  the  bed : 

"Oh,  Bertha,"  she  said,  "if  I  could  only 
make  you  understand  how  I  feel!  Just  ter- 
ribly grateful.  When  you  came  in — I  can't 
tell  you  about  it  now.  But — I  do  really  think 
it  was  the  very  darkest  moment  of  my  life." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

JlflTH  Madame's  immediate  assent  and 
V  V  her  assurance  that  she  felt  quite 
sure  there  could  be  no  objection  from  the 
Gale  family,  and  her  promise  to  write  to 
them,  there  was  no  obstacle  to  Philippa's 
indulging  in  her  favorite  pursuit  of 
castle  building  in  the  eighteen  days  that 
elapsed  before  the  Christmas  holidays 
began. 

One  thing  that  she  especially  looked  for- 
ward to  was  the  sleigh  ride  they  would  have 
to  Bostwick  if  the  roads  permitted.  There 
had  been  alternate  thaw  and  freeze  since  the 
big  Thanksgiving  Day  snow  and  the  roads 
were,  at  night,  rough  and  icy  and  slush  and 
mud  after  the  sun's  rays  had  done  their  work. 
So  Philippa  longed  fervidly  for  a  good  snow- 
storm, and  Bertha  followed  suit,  although, 
since  the  journey  was  an  old  story  to  her, 
taking  the  rather  roundabout  way  by  train 
208 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

did  not  seem  so  tragic  to  her  as  it  did  to 
Philippa. 

Christmas  presents  prevented  Philippa 
from  passing  quite  all  of  her  time  thinking 
of  the  glories  to  come  and  agonizing  about  the 
weather.  At  first  she  was  horrified  to  hear 
that  any  packages  she  might  send  would  prob- 
ably be  stopped  at  the  boundary  line  and  held 
up  for  customs.  It  was  nothing  short  of  a 
tragedy  if  she  could  not  get  some  message  to 
her  home  people.  Discussion  with  Jeff  brought 
forward  a  solution  to  this  difficulty.  He  was 
to  meet  his  father  somewhere  near  the  line  to 
spend  the  holidays  with  him  in  their  old  home 
in  Michigan.  His  father  knew  the  customs 
people  and  would  see  that  Philippa's  gifts 
were  started  on  their  way  in  the  United  States. 
So  Philippa  fell  frantically  to  work  to  get  her 
gifts  made  in  time.  Of  course,  she  didn't  get 
everything  done;  there  never  yet  had  been  a 
Christmas  that  she  had.  But  she  did  have 
something  for  all  the  family  that  she  had 
made,  and  a  few  characteristically  Canadian 
things  like  tiny  birch-bark  canoes  to  use  for 
penholders  and  miniature  snowshoes,  which 
she  had  bought  in  the  town  for  the  girls.  If 
she  sent  five  corners  for  dining  table  strips 
209 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

instead  of  the  necessary  eight  to  her  mother, 
she  had  the  assurance  that  her  gift  would  be 
appreciated  just  the  same. 

Two  days  before  they  were  to  start  for 
Bostwick,  there  came  a  heavy  snowstorm  and 
Philippa  was  in  the  seventh  heaven  of  delight. 
But  following  that  there  was  a  sudden  drop 
in  temperature  until  the  thermometer  regis- 
tered thirty  degrees  below.  Madame  tried  to 
prepare  Philippa  for  possible  disappointment 
by  warning  her  that  it  was  doubtful  whether 
Mr.  Ross  would  feel  that  it  was  wise  to  at- 
tempt a  thirty-mile  journey  in  an  open  sleigh 
in  such  bitter  cold.  Madame  herself  shivered 
with  alarm  at  the  idea.  Philippa  tried  hard 
to  prevent  them  from  guessing  how  disap- 
pointed she  would  be  if  they  had  to  go  by 
train,  but  the  smile  with  which  she  assured 
them  that  it  "really  didn't  matter"  was  a  pale 
and  unconvincing  one. 

It  was  on  Saturday  that  they  were  to  start. 
If  Mr.  Ross  did  not  come  for  them  they  were 
to  take  the  ten-o'clock  train.  There  had  been 
no  message,  so  Philippa  told  herself  that  it 
seemed  certain  that  they  were  to  go  by  train. 

She  awakened  at  the  usual  time,  although 
the  rising  bell  was  half  an  hour  later  than 
210 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

usual  because  it  was  holiday  time.  So  she  had 
a  long  time  to  lie  in  bed  and  think.  There  was 
no  reason  for  getting  up ;  she  would  just  have 
to  wait  for  breakfast  in  an  almost  empty 
house,  for  most  of  the  girls  had  left  the  after- 
noon before.  Somehow,  in  the  solemn  gray 
morning  all  sorts  of  fears  seemed  to  come  out 
of  the  corners  of  the  room  to  haunt  Philippa. 
Jeff's  departure  the  afternoon  before  seemed 
to  have  cut  the  last  cord  that  bound  her  to 
home.  The  visit  to  Bostwick,  from  being  a 
wonderful  adventure,  became  something 
almost  terrifying.  How  did  she  know 
Bertha's  family  would  like  her?  She  had 
never  been  away  for  a  visit  among  strangers 
in  her  life.  It  began  to  seem  a  dubious  under- 
taking. She  stared  with  solemn  eyes  ahead 
of  her,  trying  to  envisage  the  experience 
ahead  of  her. 

Therefore,  when  the  rising  bell  rang,  she 
jumped  out  of  bed  with  unusual  alacrity,  even 
though  the  temperature  of  the  room  was  so 
icy  that  it  was  a  really  brave  act  gaspingly  to 
close  the  slide  of  the  window  and  open  the 
door  for  the  heat  from  the  hall  outside  to  come 
in.  Then,  after  taking  refuge  a  few  minutes 
in  bed  again  while  the  temperature  of  her 

211 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

room  went  up  a  little,  she  had  courage  enough 
to  think  of  dressing. 

When  she  retired  behind  the  screen  for  her 
bath  she  found  that  the  water  in  the  pitcher 
had  thin  ice  on  it.  That  so  enchanted  Phil- 
ippa  that  she  forgot  all  about  discomfort  and 
fears.  It  made  her  one  with  all  the  hardy 
adventurers  of  romance,  who  before  her  had 
had  to  break  the  ice  before  they  could  bathe. 
She  broke  the  little  cake  of  ice  so  the  state- 
ment could  be  literally  true.  And,  as  her 
teeth  chattered  when  the  icy  water  splashed 
over  her,  she  exulted  in  her  own  hardihood — 
and  the  story  she  could  make  of  it.  Warmed  as 
much  by  the  glow  of  her  imagination  as  by 
the  brisk  rubbing  with  a  particularly  rough 
bath  towel,  she  was  dressed  and  had  her  hand- 
bag packed  some  minutes  before  breakfast. 

Bertha  and  she  were  half  through  a  rather 
breathless  meal  when  Angelique  brought  in 
a  telegram  from  Mr.  Ross  saying  that  he 
expected  to  come  for  them  by  ten.  Philippa 
was  rejoiced.  Bertha  said: 

"Father  must  have  had  his  breakfast 
early."  She  was  evidently  much  impressed. 

It  really  was  some  minutes  before  ten  when 
the  sleigh,  the  bells  making  a  melody  like  all 

212 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

the  Christmas  stories  Philippa  had  ever  read, 
drove  up  to  the  door.  A  man  who  looked  ab- 
solutely mountainous  got  out.  His  face  was 
apple  red  with  the  bitter  cold,  but  his  blue 
eyes  were  warm  with  friendliness.  When  he 
was  in  the  house  and  began  to  peel  off  one 
layer  after  another  of  wrappings,  it  was  easy 
to  understand  why  he  had  seemed  so  huge. 
He  really  was  a  rather  lean,  though  power- 
fully built,  man,  who  looked  as  if  he  spent 
most  of  his  days  out  of  doors. 

"But  do  I  have  to  wear  such  piles  of 
clothes?"  Philippa  exclaimed  as  she  watched 
him  peel  off  a  shaggy  fur  cap  and  coat,  a 
woolen  muffler  from  his  neck,  a  heavy  woolen 
overcoat,  and  a  warm  sweater — all  this  over 
an  ordinary  winter  suit.  "I  don't  believe  I 
could  get  them  all  on  at  the  same  time.  And 
I'd  look  a  fright." 

"These  girls  of  ours  think  of  their  looks 
even  when  they're  all  covered  up  with  furs  in 
a  sleigh,"  he  laughed.  "We'll  let  you  off  with 
a  layer  less.  You'll  be  all  snug  and  warm  in 
the  back  with  fur  rugs  all  around  you,  hot- 
water  jugs  at  your  feet,  and  myself  for  a 
windshield  in  front."  Then  he  turned  to  Ma- 
dame with  great  deference:  "May  I  ask  you 
213 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

for  plenty  of  boiling  water  to  fill  the  jugs? 
And  will  yon  tell  me  where  I  may  get  a  man 
to  help  pack  in  the  luggage  ?  I  must  take  the 
horses  around  to  a  stable  to  give  them  a  rest 
and  feed." 

"Angelique's  husband  is  about  the  house 
and  will  do  all  that  is  necessary,"  Madame 
said,  smiling.  "And  we  will  give  you  an  early 
lunch  after  you,  yourself,  have  rested.  It  is 
a  hard  trip  even  for  a  strong  man." 

When  Philippa  came  down,  arrayed  for  the 
drive,  she  felt  so  trussed  and  stuffed  with 
clothes  that  she  could  hardly  move.  At  Made- 
moiselle's advice  she  wore,  besides  the  under- 
flannels  which  she  had  never  thought  any 
human  power  would  make  her  wear,  the  heavy 
woolen  stockings,  lacet  shoes,  and  overstock- 
ings that  she  used  for  mating  and  snowshoe- 
ing,  woolen  tights,  he.  heavy  serge  school 
uniform,  a  sweater,  and  her  fur  coat  over  all. 
Even  then,  Madame  insisted  on  winding  over 
her  woolen  tuque  and  around  her  neck  a  long 
woven  woolen  muffler.  She  had  mittens  on 
her  hands  and  carried  her  muff.  She  felt  that 
she  waddled  when  she  walked  and  that  it 
would  be  a  physical  impossibility  to  raise  her 
hand  to  her  head. 

214 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

The  small  trunk  that  Madame  had  loaned 
her  for  the  trip  was  lashed  on  at  the  back  of 
the  sleigh,  and  three  suitcases  belonging  to 
her  and  to  Bertha  were  stowed  in  around  Mr. 
Ross  in  front.  The  back  seat  was  a  nest  of 
fur  rugs.  When  the  girls  were  packed  in  it, 
their  feet  resting  on  what  seemed  like  a  fur- 
nace at  the  bottom,  the  fur  rug  at  the  back  and 
the  one  in  front  were  drawn  so  tight  about 
them  that  they  felt  as  if  they  were  in  a  furry 
bag  with  only  their  heads  peeping  out.  And 
even  then  Mr.  Ross  was  not  satisfied.  He 
pulled  Philippa's  woolen  muffler  about  her 
face  so  nothing  but  her  eyes  were  uncovered. 

"But  the  collar  of  my  coat  comes  up  to  my 
nose  and  my  cap  down  to  my  eyebrows !  I'll 
smother!"  protested  a  muffled  voice  from 
somewhere  inside  the  bundle  of  fur  and 
woolen  stuff.  But  Mr.  Ross  only  laughed. 

"You'll  be  glad  of  it  before  we  get  home," 
he  said.  Then,  folding  his  own  rug  closely 
about  him  and  drawing  on  huge  fur  gaunt- 
lets, he  touched  his  whip  to  his  cap  to  Madame 
and  Mademoiselle,  and  they  were  off. 

At  first  Philippa  thought  she  wasn't  going 
to  enjoy  the  trip  a  bit. 

"I  feel  like  a  sack  of  potatoes  with  a  string 
is  215 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

tied  around  the  top  and  dumped  into  a  cart," 
she  commented  to  herself.  "If  I  were  mur- 
dered I  couldn't  move." 

But  that  feeling  of  helplessness  wore  off 
and  it  wasn't  many  minutes  before  she  began 
to  enjoy  the  snug  warmth.  After  all,  she 
could  move  her  head  from  side  to  side  and 
see  things.  She  could  hear  the  joyous  melody 
of  the  bells  that  were  the  perfect  fulfillment 
of  something  she  seemed  always  to  have 
longed  for.  And  she  could  talk  to  Bertha — 
or  so  she  thought.  But  when  she  tried  to  say 
something  she  discovered  it  was  an  enormous 
effort  to  make  Bertha  hear,  sunk  in  the  midst 
of  all  her  wrappings.  And  it  seemed  a  long 
time  before  Bertha's  voice  could  make  its  way 
to  her.  Moreover,  although  she  would  never 
have  believed  it,  the  biting  air  made  her  teeth 
feel  cold.  It  was  more  comfortable  to  keep 
silent  and  just  exist  in  the  melodic  jangle  of 
the  bells,  the  jewel-bright  sunlight,  the  deli- 
cious skimming  motion,  the  always  changing 
exquisite  white  world,  its  brightness  broken 
for  comfortable  intervals  by  the  unreal  group- 
ing together  of  houses  in  a  village  street  or 
by  the  solemn  dimness  of  a  stretch  of  shaded 
road. 

216 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

When,  occasionally,  she  pushed  aside  the 
wrapping  from  her  face  a  little,  she  found  the 
air  cut  like  a  razor  edge.  The  lining  of 
her  nose  ached  with  the  intake  of  her  breath. 
So  she  was  very  willing  to  pull  the  scarf 
close  about  her  face  again  and  breathe  the 
air  that  had  been  tempered  a  bit  by  the  little 
penthouse  formed  by  the  overlapping  folds 
of  stuff.  She  could  see  that  ice  was 
forming  on  the  edges  of  it,  where  the  mois- 
ture of  her  breath  met  the  outer  air  and 
froze. 

In  this  sheltered  dream  world  of  comfort 
there  was  no  way  to  gauge  time  and  distance. 
Her  mind  seemed  strangely  separated  from 
her  motionless  body;  it  went  soaring — faster 
even  than  their  speed — over  the  glistening 
world.  It  glanced  here  and  there — now  with 
her  father  and  mother  in  some  unknown 
Western  town — now  with  Doreen — wincing  a 
little  at  the  thought  of  La'  because  she  was 
jealous  of  a  tie  she  didn't  share — then  again, 
shyly  wondering  how  Doreen  felt  and  vaguely 
thrilling  in  sympathy.  Now  it  went  on  ahead 
of  the  sleigh  and  tried  to  make  pictures  of 
this  place  she  was  going  to,  and  built  scenes 
of  pleasure  which  thrilled  her  young  vanity 
217 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

because  she  would  be,  for  the  first  time  in  her 
life,  the  central  figure. 

"From  what  Bertha  said,  they're  going  to 
treat  me  as  if  I  were  really  a  grown-up,"  she 
thought.  I  wonder  how  Mother  will  like  that. 
/  think  it's  trick.  I  wonder  if  I'll  always 
know  how  to  act  ?" 

She  had  begun  to  shift  around  a  bit  uneasily 
in  the  contracted  space,  beginning  to  feel 
that  her  limbs  might  feel  cramped  in  a  little 
while — also  to  wonder  whether  it  was  not 
growing  colder.  How  else  could  it  be  that, 
in  spite  of  all  the  clothes  she  had  on,  she  felt 
that  the  bitter  cold  was  much  nearer  her  shiv- 
ery body  than  she  would  have  believed  pos- 
sible? At  this  moment  Mr.  Ross  drew  in  the 
horses  and  turned  around  to  them.  The  sud- 
den stop  and  the  silence  made  everything  seem 
unreal,  as  though  the  engine  of  the  universe 
had  run  down.  The  big,  hearty  voice  boomed 
at  them  through  space. 

"We've  made  about  fifteen  miles,  and  we'll 
stop  at  the  hotel  here.  You  girls  will  need  to 
be  thawed  out  a  bit.  And  we'll  have  the  foot- 
warmers  heated  up." 

"Father,  do  you  think  we  have  to  stop 
here?"  Bertha's  voice  seemed  unreal.  "It's 
218 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

always  full  of  men  smoking  their  vile  pipes. 
And  the  windows  are  never  opened  from  the 
beginning  of  winter  until  the  end." 

"Not  then,  if  some  of  them  can  help  it,"  said 
Mr.  Ross,  philosophically.  "But  we'll  stand 
it  for  a  few  minutes.  You  never  made  this 
trip  when  it  was  quite  so  cold,  you  know. 
We'd  best  be  on  the  safe  side.  We'll  get  some- 
thing hot  to  drink,  too.  That  '11  help." 

Before  a  small  red-brick  house,  right  on 
the  wooden  sidewalk  of  the  town,  they  drew 
up.  When  Philippa  tried  to  step  out  of  the 
sleigh  she  tottered  and  would  have  fallen  if 
Mr.  Ross  had  not  caught  her.  She  was  so  stiff 
that  it  was  some  moments  before  she  had  any 
power  over  her  muscles.  And  when  she  could 
move,  she  felt  like  nothing  but  an  animated 
bundle  of  clothes. 

Although  what  Bertha  had  said  had  pre- 
pared her  somewhat,  it  was  worse  than  any- 
thing she  could  have  imagined  when  they 
pushed  into  the  general  room — combined  office 
and  "parlor"  of  the  little  inn.  The  air  was 
thick  with  evil-smelling  tobacco  smoke,  and 
with  reminiscences  of  all  the  tobacco  that  had 
ever  been  smoked  there  and  all  the  food  that 
had  ever  been  cooked.  Add  to  that  the  fact 
219 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

that  the  room  was  crowded  with  dark,  un- 
kempt-looking men,  it  is  not  wonderful  that 
both  the  girls  drew  back  from  the  entry. 

But  Mr.  Ross  drew  them  in,  through  the 
room  and  into  a  small  dining  room,  where 
there  was  a  red-hot  stove  and  somewhat  bet- 
ter air.  There  he  seated  them  with  their  feet 
against  the  base  of  the  stove,  while  he  went 
out  to  give  his  orders.  Whether  the  hot  drink 
that  was  brought  was  tea  or  coffee,  Philippa 
hardly  knew;  it  tasted  like  neither  and  like 
nothing  else  she  had  ever  drank.  But  it  did  do 
her  good ;  in  a  few  minutes  both  girls  were  in 
a  glow  with  warmth  and  ready  to  start. 

The  cold  and  the  monotony  of  the  scene 
through  which  they  passed  and  the  smooth 
motion  brought  at  last  a  sort  of  waking  drowsi- 
ness that  was  almost  sleep.  Even  Bertha 
hardly  roused  from  this  to  mark  the  land- 
marks that  showed  they  were  nearing  her 
home.  As  for  Philippa,  when  they  turned  in 
at  last  from  the  public  road  to  where  an  ave- 
nue of  trees  marked  the  approach  to  a  house, 
she  didn't  even  notice  it.  So  the  sudden  ces- 
sation of  motion  and  the  opening  of  a  door 
and  the  sound  of  welcoming  voices  came  to 
her  as  a  great  surprise. 

220 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

The  first  thing  she  knew  she  was  being  half 
carried  up  steps  and  a  warm  motherly  voice 
was  saying : 

"The  poor  children !  They  are  half  frozen. 
Now,  Chester,  I  knew  I  was  right  in  saying 
the  trip  would  be  too  severe.  I'll  just  take 
Philippa  up  to  her  room  and  put  the  child  to 
bed  with  a  hot-water  bottle  at  her  feet.  And 
then  we'll  just  let  her  sleep.  Don't  let  me  for- 
get to  rub  some  cold  cream  on  her  face.  It's 
going  to  be  stiff  and  sore  after  all  this  ex- 
posure." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

FROM  the  moment  when  she  awakened, 
after  a  long  nap,  and  was  triumphantly 

conducted  downstairs  by  Bertha  to  a  late 
dinner,  things  happened  so  fast  that  Philippa, 
looking  back  afterward  at  her  visit  to  Bost- 
wick,  could  hardly  distinguish  one  day  from 
another.  Something  jolly  seemed  to  happen 
every  minute.  Christmas  was  only  two  days 
off,  so  the  first  thing  was  an  expedition  to 
bring  in  greens  to  decorate  the  house.  That 
was  the  next  morning.  Mr.  Ross,  Bob  (Ber- 
tha's brother  who  reminded  Philippa  of  Sam 
Boulden),  Bertha,  and  a  big,  silent,  English- 
looking  chap  from  the  next  place  were  the 
party.  They  went  on  snowshoes,  of  course, 
and  invaded  the  majestic  silence  of  the  woods 
with  their  light-hearted  clatter.  They  came 
back  so  loaded  with  holly,  crowfoot,  ground 
pine,  and  a  rarely  perfect  branch  of  mistletoe 
which  Bob  persistently  sought  in  spite  of  the 
222 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

fun  that  everybody  poked  at  him  in  conse- 
quence, that  they  looked  like  a  little  clump  of 
shrubbery  which  some  celestial  gardener  was 
shifting  across  white  spaces  to  Mr.  Ross's 
lawn.  Mr.  Ross,  himself,  carrying  a  tree  big- 
ger than  himself,  and  powdered  with  snow 
from  its  branches,  made  a  fine  Santa  Claus 
in  his  northern  stronghold. 

All  that  afternoon  they  decorated  the  din- 
ing room,  hall,  the  living  room,  and  the  big 
drawing-room  with  green  garlands  and  red 
and  green  wreaths.  Philippa  and  Bob  were 
told  off  to  trim  the  Christmas  tree.  The 
others,  with  stepladder,  hammer  and  nails, 
and  twine,  made  an  apparently  hopeless  con- 
fusion that  began  to  be  cleared  away  only 
toward  evening.  Some  man  was  always  on  a 
stepladder,  bombarded  with  criticisms  and  di- 
rections from  below  which  he  received  argu- 
mentatively  when  it  was  Mr.  Ross,  meekly 
when  it  was  Victor  Forneret,  the  neighbor — 
especially  when  the  critic  was  Bertha.  When 
it  was  all  done,  Mrs.  Ross  made  them  clean  up 
the  disorder  they  had  made  and  they  retired 
to  their  rooms  to  rest  from  their  labors  and 
dress  for  dinner. 

That  evening,  which  was  glorious  moon- 
223 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

light,  so  many  young  people  drove  over,  or 
snowshoed  over,  to  make  plans  for  the  coming 
two  weeks,  that  Philippa,  in  hopeless  confu- 
sion, gave  up  trying  to  keep  track  of  events 
at  all.  She  couldn't  distinguish  one  from  an- 
other, new  as  they  all  were  to  her.  She  merely 
had  a  vague  impression  of  enormous  hospi- 
tality, of  exteriors  a  little  less  sleek  than  would 
have  been  the  case  in  her  city,  but  of  manners 
as  delicately  considerate  as  the  best  she  had 
known  while  they  were  more  outspokenly 
hearty.  And  never  had  she  seen  such  burly, 
ruddy  men  or  such  red-cheeked,  bright-eyed 
girls.  With  the  newness  of  it  all,  and  the 
strain  of  the  long  ride  not  yet  quite  over, 
everything  became  a  pleasant  warm  haze  to 
her  from  which  she  gazed  in  wonder  at  Mrs. 
Ross,  authoritatively  arranging  or  canceling 
dates,  with  apparently  a  perfectly  clear  idea 
of  what  seemed  to  Philippa  a  tangled  confu- 
sion. Finally,  seeing  the  heavy  eyes  of  'her 
two  girls,'  Mrs.  Ross,  soon  after  the  Yule-log 
was  brought  in  and  kindled  with  much  cere- 
mony, good-humoredly  swept  all  the  callers 
out  of  the  house.  Philippa  went  to  sleep  while 
she  desperately  tried  to  attach  a  single  name 
to  a  single  personality. 
224 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

The  next  day  they  were,  for  the  most  part, 
left  to  themselves,  and  the  preoccupation  of 
the  household  with  Christmas  presents  and 
Christmas  dinner.  It  was  practically  impossible 
to  get  trained  service  so  far  from  a  city,  Mrs. 
Ross  explained  to  Philippa,  so  in  the  house 
they  had  to  manage  with  two  ignorant  but 
willing  maids  from  the  countryside.  There- 
fore, everything  but  the  simplest  cooking  had 
to  be  done  by  Mrs.  Ross  or  Bertha,  and  every 
detail  of  each  meal  planned  by  the  mistress  of 
the  house.  Philippa  was  enchanted  to  help, 
and  so  delighted  that  she  was  allowed  to  make 
the  mayonnaise  and  stuff  the  potatoes  that  she 
was  thankful  to  her  mother  who  had  insisted 
that  she  learn  something  about  cooking.  She 
was  glad,  too,  that  she  had  thought  of  bring- 
ing so  many  snapshots  of  home  things  and 
people.  Used  to  decorate  calendars  or  other 
little  trifles,  they  would  serve,  for  the  emer- 
gency Christmas  gifts  that  she  had  had  no 
time  to  make  or  opportunity  to  buy.  When, 
on  Christmas  morning,  Bertha  and  she  hur- 
ried on  their  clothes  in  the  gray  light  of  early 
morning  and  stole  downstairs  to  see  what  was 
in  their  stockings  and  to  see  the  big  tree 
ablaze  with  lights,  it  was  such  fun  to  find  the 
225 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

pretty  or  funny  gifts  which  every  member  of 
the  household  had  given  her,  that  not  one 
lonesome  or  unhappy  thought  flew  homeward. 
In  fact,  late  that  night,  after  all  the  crowded 
jollity  of  the  day,  the  big  family  dinner  with 
sixteen  Rosses  and  their  relatives  at  table,  the 
skirmishing  under  the  mistletoe  when  Bob, 
having  fairly  trapped  her,  was  laughed  at 
because  he  let  her  go  without  exacting  penalty, 
the  holiday  sleighride  with  six  sleighs  strung 
along  the  white  road,  the  impromptu  dance  in 
the  evening — it  was  then  for  the  first  time  that 
Philippa  remembered  that  she  had  forgotten 
to  be  sad  because  she  was  not  having  Christ- 
mas at  home. 

The  next  two  weeks  were  so  crowded  with 
hearty  fun  that  it  was  hard  to  find  time  to  get 
the  proper  amount  of  sleep.  Almost  every 
household  in  Bostwick  gave  a  party  of  some 
kind,  the  Rosses  leading  off.  And  usually 
their  hostesses  insisted  on  Bertha  and  her 
guest  spending  the  night  as  well.  So  they 
made  a  sort  of  royal  progress  from  homestead 
to  homestead.  Moreover,  as  there  were  usu- 
ally either  daughters  of  the  house  they  were 
visiting  or  other  young  girls  invited  to  spend 
the  night  also,  often  after  the  dance  ended, 
226 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

almost  the  best  fun  of  the  night  began.  For 
the  girls,  with  bathrobes  over  their  night- 
gowns or  pajamas,  warm  bedroom  slippers  on 
their  feet,  and  hair  hanging  down  their  backs, 
would  gather  in  one  of  the  rooms  assigned  to 
them,  perch  on  the  bed  with  their  feet  tucked 
under  them,  and  live  the  dance  over  again, 
comparing  notes  as  to  what  the  various  male 
beings  had  said  to  them — screaming  with 
laughter  when  they  found  that  one  man  had 
said  the  same  thing  about  the  "midnight"  eyes 
of  three  different  girls,  and  getting  into  such  a 
state  of  giggles  and  general  hilarity  that  sleep 
seemed  the  least  important  thing  in  the  uni- 
verse. Once,  two  older  girls  and  Bertha  and 
Philippa  became  so  chummy  that  even  sepa- 
rating enough  to  go  into  the  adjoining  room 
was  not  to  be  thought  of.  So  they  decided 
that  three  of  them  could  be  accommodated 
lengthwise  in  the  bed,  the  fourth  could  lie 
across  the  foot  of  it.  They  began  the  night 
in  this  way  with  much  enthusiasm.  But  Phil- 
ippa, awaking  when  the  first  gray  light  was 
straggling  through  the  windowpanes,  found 
herself  very  cold  and  cramped  and  painfully 
sleepy.  So  she  finished  the  night  in  her  own 
room.  In  so  small  a  place,  the  grown-up, 
227 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

female,  unmarried  population  amounted  to  no 
more  than  twelve,  even  though  there  were  one 
or  two  other  holiday  guests.  As  their  ages 
ranged  from  Philippa's  fifteen  to  the  mature 
twenty-seven  of  another  guest,  it  will  be  seen 
that  Philippa  was  having  a  wide  experience. 
The  English  people  in  Bostwick  were,  na- 
turally, of  varying  degrees  of  affluence  and  of 
varying  occupations.  They  boasted  a  member 
of  the  Canadian  Parliament.  There  was  a 
physician,  the  bachelor  rector  of  the  little 
church;  there  was  even  an  author  known  in 
the  United  States  as  well  as  in  his  own  coun- 
try. But  most  of  the  heads  of  households 
were  the  nearest  approach  to  the  idea  of 
"country  gentleman"  which  Philippa  had 
gathered  from  stories  of  English  life,  that 
she  had  as  yet  known.  They  were  farmers, 
but  not  farmers  as  we  of  the  United  States 
usually  interpret  the  v/ord.  They  farmed  their 
land,  it  is  true,  with  the  help  of  what  labor 
they  could  get  from  the  surrounding  rural 
population;  and  the  produce  of  their  land 
was  certainly  a  considerable  part  of  their 
livelihood.  But  they  all  had  other  sources  of 
income,  inherited  or  derived  from  some  busi- 
ness in  the  city.  Their  interest,  however,  was 
228 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

distinctly  in  their  country  neighborhood,  in 
the  politics  of  their  county  and  province. 
They  were  seriously  interested  in  hunting, 
too ;  had  their  local  pack  and  rode  to  hounds. 
And  many  of  them,  Philippa  gathered,  were 
members  of  a  hunting  club  in  Ontario,  and, 
with  Indian  guides,  repaired  to  the  wilderness 
when  the  open  season  for  moose  was  on. 
There  was  hardly  a  house  in  Bostwick  that 
did  not  have  its  magnificent  antlered  moose 
heads  mounted  in  entrance  hall  or  library  or 
living  room.  Yet,  though  their  tables  were 
spread  with  hearty  plenty,  there  seemed  to  be 
no  such  extravagant  expenditure  otherwise  as 
Philippa  was  accustomed  to  in  her  home  city. 
The  girls  dressed  simply  and  were  quite  con- 
tented to  wear  to  the  parties  the  sort  of  frock 
that  would,  in  Washington,  not  have  been  con- 
sidered a  dancing  dress  at  all.  And  Bertha's 
mother,  when  she  went  to  church,  contentedly 
donned  a  fur  coat  of  a  pattern  that  Philippa 
had  seen  in  photographs  of  ten  years  back, 
and  a  hat  that  she  laughingly  confessed  had 
been  her  "church  hat"  for  five  years  running. 
When  they  were  all  in  church  one  Sunday, 
Philippa,  looking  around  the  congregation, 
thought  that  she  had  never  seen  so  many  rosy, 
229 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

hearty,  happy-looking  people  together  in  all 
her  life  before. 

"Yes,  indeed,  I  certainly  am  going  to  live 
in  the  country  when  I  marry  and  have  chil- 
dren/' she  thought.  "That  is,  if  I  can  find  a 
place  like  this  in  the  United  States. 

Often  the  dances  were  held  in  the  big 
kitchen,  because  the  drawing-room  was  not 
large  enough  or  had  old-fashioned  carpet  on 
the  floor  or  could  not  be  properly  heated  as 
often  happened  with  an  especially  large  room, 
or  one  that  had  a  northwest  exposure.  There 
the  Canadian  fiddler  would  be  put  up  on  a 
table,  sometimes,  and  would  sit  high  above 
them  all,  his  swarthy  face  ruddy  with  exer- 
tion, his  whole  body  dancing  with  the  rhythm, 
calling  out,  in  French,  the  figures  of  the  coun- 
try dances  which,  strange  as  they  were  in  the 
beginning  to  Philippa,  she  learned  to  romp 
through  with  joyous  abandon.  She  was  in 
such  demand  as  a  partner  that  she  often  had 
to  promise  dances  a  long  time  ahead.  But 
she  had  common  sense  enough  to  realize 
that  this  was  because  she  was  the  new 
girl,  the  novelty  in  a  small  neighborhood 
where  there  were  many  more  young  men 
and  boys  than  girls.  All  the  girls,  in  fact, 
230 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

were  great  belles.  In  all  of  the  gayeties, 
however,  no  one  figure  seemed  to  stand 
out  more  with  Philippa  than  another.  Some 
of  them  danced  better  than  others,  of  course, 
or  were  better  looking.  But  there  were 
so  many  strange  to  her,  and  there  were  so 
many  jolly  parties  and  everything  was  so 
general,  that  the  whole  two  weeks  seemed 
like  one  joyous  revel  through  which  she 
romped.  And  of  the  boys  there  was  not  one, 
not  even  Bob  Ross,  who  pretty  generally 
managed  to  be  at  her  side,  who  compared 
with  Jeff  in  her  eyes.  And  of  the  young 
men,  nobody  who  approached  the  young 
Seigneur. 

For  all  her  life  afterward,  however,  one  day 
was  to  stand  out  as  the  most  delightful.  It 
was  near  the  end  of  the  holiday.  Bertha  and 
Philippa  came  home  before  lunch  and  settled 
down  with  a  sigh  of  relief  to  the  prospect  of 
an  afternoon  and  evening  at  home.  They  had 
been  going  so  incessantly  that  the  break  in  the 
week's  festivities  was  as  great  a  delight  as 
the  beginning  of  the  parties  had  been.  At 
Mrs.  Ross's  advice,  after  lunch  they  put  on 
bathrobes  and  slippers,  and  went  to  their  own 
rooms  for  a  much-needed  nap.  It  was  with  a 
16  231 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

sense  of  exquisite  luxury  that  Philippa  tucked 
the  soft  down  comfort  about  her  and  sank 
into  a  deep  sleep. 

When  she  woke  the  snow  was  falling,  the 
flakes  so  thick,  so  determined,  that  the  storm 
promised  to  be  something  more  than  usual. 
The  wind  rose  and  howled  about  the  house, 
driving  white  swirling  masses  against  the 
stout  storm  windows.  With  all  the  buffeting 
there  was  not  a  tremor  in  the  house,  nor  did 
one  of  the  substantial  casements  of  the  outer 
windows  rattle.  Philippa  lay  there  in  warm 
and  luxurious  restf ulness,  feeling,  as  she  had 
never  felt  it  before  in  her  life,  the  blessedness 
of  shelter  from  the  stern  forces  of  nature. 
Her  imagination  went  out  into  a  howling, 
white  waste  where  she,  alone,  should  struggle 
against  icy  winds  and  engulfing  drifts  until 

she  sank  down — to The  shiver  with 

which  she  awoke  from  the  imaginary  tragedy 
made  all  the  more  delightful  her  safe  com- 
fort in  the  warm  and  sheltered  room.  She 
drew  the  down  coverlid  closer  about  her 
shoulders,  sighing  with  delight,  and  watched 
the  ever-falling,  never-fallen  curtain  of  the 
snow  in  expectation  of  the  moment  when  the 
shrieking  wind  would  drive  masses  of  it 
232 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

against  the  windows  as  if  in  ferocious 
protest  against  the  barrier  that  kept  it 
from  her. 

All  that  evening  everyone  seemed  to  feel,  as 
a  new  thing,  the  homely  cheer  of  the  snug  red- 
brick house.  After  dinner  Mr.  Ross  and  Bob 
brought  in  fresh  logs  for  the  big  fireplace  in 
the  living  room,  and  then  threw  on  pine  cones, 
so  after  they  had  turned  the  light  down,  the 
place  was  filled  with  leaping  flame  and  danc- 
ing shadow.  They  all  seemed  to  feel  a  peace 
that  they  had  not  had  in  all  the  bustling  holi- 
day time,  and  everyone  was  strangely  near  to 
every  other  one.  The  Rosses  seemed  to  Phil- 
ippa  like  friends  she  had  grown  up  with.  And 
all  of  them,  even  usually  tongue-tied  Bob, 
talked  easily  and  without  restraint  or  any 
thought  of  the  effect  of  their  words,  of  people, 
of  ideas,  or  of  things  that  they  had  done  or 
heard  or  thought.  It  was  an  evening  of  com- 
plete happiness  which  seemed,  somehow,  to 
need  music  to  express  its  completeness.  So 
Bob  brought  out  a  guitar  which  he  usually 
could  not  be  induced  to  play,  and  strummed 
harmonious  cords  while  they  sang  softly. 
When  the  Canadian  started  "A  la  Claire  Fon- 
taine" or  some  other  well-known  French  song 
233 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

the  maids,  hearing  from  their  chairs  around 
the  kitchen  stove,  joined  in.  It  was  almost 
midnight  before  they  could  decide  really  to 
leave  all  this  and  go  to  bed. 

It  snowed  all  night,  and  when  Philippa 
looked  out  of  her  window  the  next  morning 
she  could  see  nothing  to  indicate  where  the 
road  had  been,  but  the  trees  that  marked  off 
an  uncertain  parallel.  When  she  got  down  to 
the  breakfast  table,  there  was  a  great  stamp- 
ing in  the  kitchen  as  Mr.  Ross  came  in  from 
a  tour  of  inspection. 

"Well,  we're  pretty  well  buried  up,"  he  said, 
when  he  came  into  the  dining  room,  rubbing 
his  icy  hands  to  warm  them.  "The  drifts  are 
about  ten  feet  deep  in  some  places.  And 
though  it's  slowed  up  a  bit,  there's  more  still 
to  come.  We  may  get  the  roads  about  here 
broken  in  to-morrow,  but  I  doubt  if  you  girls 
can  start  back  to  school  before  the  afternoon 
of  the  day  after  and  not  then,  if  there's  much 
more  snow.  There  are  hollows  where  the 
snow  drifts  so  badly  that  we  won't  get  to  the 
bottom  of  them  for  some  time.  I  don't  see 
any  tears  being  shed."  He  shook  with  hearty 
laughter. 

"I  can't  imagine  anyone  ever  really  wanting 
234 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

to  leave  this  place,"  Philippa  said,  solemnly. 
"Unless  it  was  to  go  to  his  own  home.  But" — 
she  hurried  on  to  get  away  from  that  topic — 
"if  the  roads  are  impassable,  isn't  it  hard 
sometimes  to  keep  house,  Mrs.  Ross?  If  de- 
livery wagons  couldn't  get  to  us  for  days  I'm 
afraid  we'd  starve.  Of  course,  I  know  its 
different  here,  but " 

"Bless  the  child,  I'll  have  to  show  her  the 
storeroom — and  the  cellar — and  the  cold 
closet — and  the  dairy."  Mrs.  Ross  could 
hardly  wait  for  Philippa  to  finish  breakfast 
before  she  dragged  her  off. 

"Better  show  her  the  barn,  too,"  said  Mr. 
Ross.  "With  five  cows  and  all  the  hens 
in  a  chicken  house  that  can  be  heated  in 
weather  like  this,  we  could  stand  a  pretty 
long  siege." 

So  Philippa  was  conducted  down  cellar,  a 
big,  well-lighted  one  with  a  cement  floor.  In 
it  were  barrels  of  potatoes,  apples,  and  all  the 
winter  vegetables.  Cured  hams  hung  from 
the  rafters;  pumpkins  and  squash  covered 
a  long  table.  In  the  pantry  was  a  barrel 
of  flour  and  a  barrel  of  sugar.  In  the  cold 
closet  were  fruits  and  vegetables  canned  in 
glass,  cheeses,  besides  canned  fish  and  other 
235 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

commodities  by  the  dozen  from  the  whole- 
sale grocer.  In  the  dairy  were  pans  of 
milk,  jars  of  cream,  and  pats  of  their  own 
butter." 

"We  won't  go  out  to  the  cow  stable,"  said 
Mrs.  Ross,  laughing,  "nor  to  the  chicken 
house,  although  I'm  sure  Mr.  Ross  expects 
you  and  the  men  have  made  a  path.  But,  you 
see,  we  really  are  fairly  independent  of  town 
here." 

"Oh,  I  think  that's  the  way  to  live.  There 
never  is  a  time  when  you're  not  ready  for  com- 
pany, then.  I'm  going  to  live  in  the  country 
and  have  things  all  stored  up  like  that.  It 
makes  you  feel  so  solid  and — permanent, 
somehow." 

Bertha  came  out  to  the  dairy  for  Philippa, 
whom  she  found  looking  at  the  cream  and 
delicious-looking  butter  and  delivering  herself 
in  this  fashion. 

"Come  on  and  help  me,"  she  said,  laughing. 
"Half  of  Bostwick  has  come  to  see  us  on 
snowshoes." 

Sure  enough,  the  room  seemed  full  of  young 

men,  red  faced  and  alive  to  the  tips  of  their 

fingers  with  the  brisk  run  and  the  biting  air. 

They  were  peeling  off  coats  and  comforters, 

236 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

evidently  prepared  to  make  a  stay.  And  be- 
fore they  had  got  their  things  off  others  came. 
The  girls  were  half  distracted,  wondering 
what  they  would  do  with  them.  But  the  boys 
themselves,  were  under  no  embarrassment. 
They  trooped  out  into  the  woodshed  for  logs 
for  the  fire;  they  played  cards  or  arranged 
games  or  read  a  book  in  a  corner.  They 
strolled  out  into  the  kitchen  to  see  Mrs.  Ross 
and  ask  her  what  she  was  going  to  have  for 
lunch.  One  of  the  boys  who  had  been  in  the 
war  insisted  on  taking  the  maids'  task  of  peel- 
ing potatoes  from  her,  saying  that  he  had 
become  expert  in  the  K.  P.  They  were  good- 
natured  rivals  for  the  attention  of  the  town 
girls,  but  the  ones  who  couldn't  get  their  share 
of  attention  seemed  to  get  along  well  by 
themselves.  It  was  a  protracted  indoor  picnic 
which  lasted  all  day.  And  when  night  came 
and  the  roads  had  been  cleared  out  a  little, 
they  pulled  the  girls  from  the  nearest  houses 
to  the  Ross's  by  harnessing  themselves  to  a 
sleigh  and  pretending  they  were  frolicsome 
ponies  as  well  as  strapping  young  men  may  in 
roads  that  were  still  deep  with  snow.  The 
same  sleigh  also  served  to  bring  the  nearest 
fiddler.  And  the  evening  came  to  a  glorious 
237 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

close  with  an  impromptu  dance  in  the  big 
kitchen. 

"Oh-h-h !"  Philippa  sighed  to  herself  as  she 
crawled  into  bed,  having  had  to  divide  every 
dance  between  two  and  sometimes  three  part- 
ners. "I  never  knew  there  was  so  much  fun." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

rHE  first  persons  that  Philippa  saw  on 
getting  back  to  the  Chateau  were  Helen 
Odell  and  her  father  who  was  just  going. 
Helen  looked  sullen  and  unhappy  and  her 
father,  troubled.  Helen  did,  however,  give 
Philippa  a  friendly  smile. 

A  few  days  later  Madame  called  Philippa 
into  her  little  white  austere  room  for  one  of 
the  little  colloquies  that  always  marked  some- 
thing momentous  in  the  girls'  lives. 

"I  think,  my  little  Philippa,"  she  said,  in 
her  gentle  hushed  voice.  "There  is  something 
y®u  can  do  that  will  help  us  of  the  Chateau 
to  a  more  happy  state  of  things.  It  is  some- 
thing that  concerns  Helen." 

"Indeed,  Madame,"  said  Philippa,  en- 
nobled, somehow,  by  Madame's  confidence  in 
her.  "I  will  do  anything  I  have  sense  enough 
to  do." 

"I  think  you  have  the  sense ;  and  le  bon  gre 
—the  good  will,  I  should  say,  I  expected  to 
239 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

find  not  lacking.  Helen's  parents  feel  that 
we  can  better  guard  Helen  here  than  they  can 
do  it  at  home.  This,  you  see,  is  so  small  a 
place  that  the  arrival  of  a  stranger  is  noted  as 
would  not  be  the  case  in  a  city.  They  feel 
convinced  that,  if  she  can  be  but  sheltered  for 
a  time,  this  Mr.  Hugh  Ditmer  will  himself 
reveal  so  much  of  what  he  is  that  Helen  will 
no  longer  be  deluded.  I  think  so  also.  They 
wished  me  to  agree  that  she  should  not  go 
out  of  the  house  except  with  one  of  the  teach- 
ers. I  would  not  consent  to  that.  That  is 
too  unnatural  a  life  for  a  young  girl.  It 
would  make  her  bitter  or  morbid  with  unhap- 
piness.  So  they  let  me  have  my  way.  And 
that  way  was  that  she  would  be  allowed  to  go 
out  on  the  streets  at  any  time,  to  take  part  in 
the  sports  of  the  other  girls,  do  anything  that 
I  would  be  willing  to  have  the  others  do,  pro- 
viding that  her  companion  was  of  my  own 
choosing." 

Philippa  saw  what  was  coming.  It  wasn't, 
to  tell  the  truth,  very  welcome  to  her.  She 
felt  as  if  a  heavy  weight  were  settling  down 
on  her  shoulders. 

"But  Madame — Is  that  fair  to  Helen,  is 
that  giving  her  liberty?" 

240 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"I  know,  ma  petite.  There  is  that  side 
and  it  is  much  to  ask  of  you.  But  there 
must  be  someone  to  help  Mimi  and  myself 
and  this  poor  little  girl  who  is  struggling 
with  something  that  she  has  not,  as  yet, 
enough  strength  to  cope  with.  You  have 
seen  this  man,  this  Mr.  Hugh  Ditmer — " 
Somehow  the  way  Madame  always  pro- 
nounced this  man's  name  with  a  subtle 
intonation  of  delicate  scorn.  "You  feel,  I 
am  sure,  that  it  would  not  be  for  the  hap- 
piness of  Helen  to  be  in  the  power  of  that 
person  ?" 

"Yes— but " 

"You  are  going  to  say,  I  am  sure,  that  you 
cannot  take  the  responsibility  to  act.  I,  too, 
would  have  felt  that  at  your  age.  But,  cherie, 
it  is  not  we  who  choose  when  we  will  assume 
responsibilty  and  when  we  will  not.  There 
arise  circumstances  when,  by  the  terrible  logic 
of  events,  we  are  the  one  who  must  act — we 
and  no  others.  I,  moi-meme,  would  not  have 
undertaken  this  affair.  But  circumstances  so 
worked  together  that  I  was  the  only  one  who 
could.  Until  she  met  this  Mr.  Hugh  Ditmer 
I  had  much  influence  with  Helen,  more — so 
they  often  told  me — than  her  parents  who 
241 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

had,  perhaps,  spoiled  her  with  too  much  in- 
dulgence." 

"But  you,  Madame,  are  so  wise  and  won- 
derful. And  I " 

Madame  placed  her  hand  softly  on  Phil- 
ippa's. 

"There  was  one  time,  when  I  was  of  the 
age  of  Helen,  when  much  of  wretchedness 
might  have  been  spared  me  had  I  had  one 
young  companion  who  would  have  done  for 
me  what  I  am  asking  that  you  do  for  Helen. 
Youth  can  do  that  for  youth  that  age  cannot 
do." 

"Oh,  Madame,  since  you  are  sure  it  would 
be  right,  of  course  I  will  do  what  you  say." 
Nobody  could  have  failed  to  be  convinced  by 
the  almost  tragic  earnestness  of  Madame's 
voice  and  face. 

As  time  went  on,  however,  all  of  the  serious 
side  of  the  arrangement  passed  out  of  Philip- 
pa's  mind.  It  had  decidedly  pleasant  features. 
In  the  afternoon  hours  for  exercise  Helen 
and  she  could  go  off  for  themselves  for  snow- 
shoe  tramps  or  for  sleigh  rides  or  just  loiter 
about  the  quaint  little  town,  in  and  out  of  the 
few  shops,  trying  their  French  on  the  habi- 
tante  behind  the  counter,  being  told,  perhaps, 
242 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

that  she  could  not  understand  them  because 
they  talked,  "yank  Anglas,"  which  dark  say- 
ing Helen  translated  to  mean  "only  English" 
(rien  que  I'  Anglais).  Helen  seemed  to  enjoy 
these  trips  and  the  longer  ones  on  Saturday 
as  much  as  Philippa  did ;  it  really  was  a  relief 
to  both  of  them  to  be  free  of  the  long  line  of 
girls,  even  though  Mademoiselle  Mimi  walked 
at  the  head  of  it.  And  they  were  really  com- 
panionable and  very  sympathetic  mentally. 
If  there  was  any  bitter  to  be  mingled  with 
the  sweet  of  her  agreement  with  Madame, 
Philippa  had  not  yet  tasted  it.  She  began  to 
feel  that  Helen  was  going  to  be  as  good  a 
friend  as  Bertha  had  become.  Sometimes  she 
began  to  place  them  in  the  same  category  with 
Anne  'n'  Virginia  before  she  had  time  to  stop 
and  reflect  that  there  is  something  different  in 
the  girls  you  have  grown  up  with  and  have 
always  been  friends  with. 

"I'm  sure  the  very  best  friends  are  made 
early  in  life,"  she  told  herself.  Helen  never 
spoke  of  her  love  affair  and  Philippa  was  sure 
she  was  getting  over  it. 

Then  everything  was  driven  out  of  Phil- 
ippa's  head  but  the  glorious  prospect  that  Jeff 
opened  up  to  her.  He  came  to  see  her  one 
243 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

day  with  the  news  that  something  he  had 
been  hoping  for  for  a  long  time  but  had 
almost  given  up  was  really  coming  true. 
The  wonderful  winter  Carnival  that  had,  in 
years  past,  made  Montreal  famous  was  to  be 
held  again  that  year.  The  young  Prince  of 
Wales  had  expressed  a  wish  on  his  visit  to 
Canada  in  1920  to  have  the  opportunity  of 
seeing  the  spectacle  and  taking  part  in  the 
winter  sports.  The  Montreal  leading  citizens, 
among  whom  was  Margaret  Dixon's  father, 
had  engineered  the  thing,  and  Jeff's  father 
because  of  his  railroad  interests  as  well  as  his 
position  on  certain  senate  committees  had 
known  about  it  almost  as  soon  as  the  project 
had  been  started.  And  he  was  going  to  take 
Jeff  to  the  Carnival  and  had  got  permission 
for  Philippa  to  go,  too. 

"It  seems  impossible  that  anything  so  won- 
derful can  really  be  true,"  said  Philippa  sol- 
emnly when  the  full  beauty  of  the  idea  had 
been  made  clear  to  her.  "Oh,  Jeff,  how  long 
will  we  have  to  wait  ?" 

Some  days  after  that  Margaret  Dixon  came 
to  Philippa  with  the  same  news. 

"Oh  yes,  I  knew,"  said  Philippa,  not  with- 
out some  mischievous  pleasure.  There  was  a 
244 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

ponderous  conviction  of  her  own  position 
among  the  elect  in  Margaret  that  made  it  ab- 
solutely necessary  to  puncture  the  inflation 
whenever  necessary. 

"How  did  you  know?"  By  this  time  Phil- 
ippa  had  learned  that  Margaret  didn't  mean 
an  insult  when  she  showed  such  surprise  in 
anyone  but  herself  having  inside  information. 

"Oh,  it  came  through  one  of  our  statesmen 
who  is  having  a  good  deal  to  do  with  the 
relations  of  the  United  States  and  Canada 
just  now." 

"Oh,"  said  Margaret,  candidly  much  im- 
pressed. 

"I'm  going  up  to  Montreal  for  the  Carni- 
val," Margaret  brought  out  her  second  big 
gun. 

"So'm  I."  Philippa  didn't  stay  to  see  how 
this  shot  would  be  received.  She  was  afraid 
she  couldn't  keep  her  unconcerned,  matter- 
of-fact  pose  another  minute. 

The  next  weeks,  the  most  crowded  of  the 
year — for  Madame  always  found  that  Janu- 
ary was  the  month  when  the  girls  did  the  best 
work,  left  little  time  for  daydreaming.  But 
whenever  Philippa  did  stop  to  think  of  the 
glorious  prospect  ahead  of  her,  a  sharp  thrill 
245 


FHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

of  joyous  excitement  ran  through  her.  At 
the  beginning,  it  had  seemed  just  too  impos- 
sible that  the  time  could  ever  come  around. 
And  she  didn't  really  believe  it  had  come  until 
Margaret  and  Jeff  and  she  were  really  seated 
in  the  train  for  Montreal.  Half  of  the  school 
came  to  the  station  to  see  them  off.  They 
were  the  only  ones  in  the  Chateau  who  were 
going  to  have  the  treat.  Sam  Boulden,  care- 
fully evading  Philippa's  eyes,  and  one  or  two 
of  the  other  boys  had  come  to  do  Jeff  honor. 
As  the  train  pulled  out  Philippa's  satisfaction 
was  dimmed  a  little  by  seeing  the  wistful  faces 
of  the  ones  left  behind. 

The  very  sight  of  Montreal  was  enough  to 
send  the  blood  coursing  ecstatically  through 
one's  veins.  It  is  a  shocking  thing  to  record 
of  one  almost  grown  up — so  recently  a  belle  of 
Bostwick — but  when  Philippa's  feet  first 
crunched  down  on  the  hard-packed  crackling 
snow  and  she  saw  motors  and  sleighs  skim 
past  over  the  icy  streets  and  heard  sleighbells 
and  motor  horns  combine  in  a  wild  jazz  med- 
ley, she  jumped  up  and  down  and  squealed 
with  delight.  Mr.  Randolph  looked  at  her 
with  approval: 

"That's  just  what  I  expected  you  to  do, 
246 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Philippa,"  he  said.     "Can  you  keep  that — 
what's  the  imbecile  word  you  use,  Jeff?" 

"Pep,"  said  Jeff,  without  hesitation. 

"That's  it — if  you  can  keep  that  pep  all  the 
time  I'll  feel  that  my  distinguished  efforts  to- 
ward having  the  Montreal  Winter  Carnival 
restored  have  not  been  in  vain." 

"Did  you  have  something  to  do  with  it? 
Gosh !  but  I'd  be  glad  to  tell  Margaret  Dixon 
that!" 

"I  don't  believe  it  would  be  discreet  diplom- 
acy if  you  did.  But  it  may  be  that  Montreal 
business  men  might  look  favorably  on  special 
excursion  rates  on  some  of  the  roads  I  am 
interested  in  that  would  bring  a  few  thousand 
free  spenders  to  Montreal  in  a  rather  dead 
year." 

Philippa  put  on  an  expression  of  diplomatic 
reticence  that  would  have  done  credit  to  a 
member  of  the  American  Diplomatic  Corps 
at  the  Limitation  of  Arms  Conference. 

"I  see  it  would  be  better  not  to  mention 
that  to  Margaret,"  she  said.  "Her  father  is 
a  railroad  president." 

"So  I  have  been  informed." 

They  wanted  a  sleigh,  of  course,  instead  of 
a  taxi,  to  the  hotel,  so  they  were  a  little  later 
17  247 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

than  they  would  otherwise  have  been  in  get- 
ting to  their  hotel. 

"If  you  change  for  dinner  I  would  put  on 
something  warm,"  said  Mr.  Randolph.  "The 
storming  of  the  Ice  Palace  is  scheduled  for 
this  evening  and  we  will  have  to  be  getting  to 
the  place  where  I  have  a  window  reserved 
immediately  after  dinner." 

That  was  the  time  that  Philippa  was  glad 
her  mother  had  insisted  on  her  having  the 
"Sunday  dress"  which  she  had  said  would  be 
necessary  at  the  school.  The  soft  folds  of 
the  jade-green  duvetyn  were  most  becoming 
to  the  vivid  piquancy  of  her  face  and  the 
slender  vigor  of  her  body. 

"Isn't  it  funny  to  think  that  I  used  to  be 
worried  about  being  too  fat  when  I  was  a 
child,"  she  thought,  eying  her  reflection  in 
the  mirror  with  a  good  deal  of  favor.  The 
period  of  which  she  spoke  was  as  far  back  in 
the  past  to  her  mind,  as  though  it  had  been 
twenty  instead  of  two  years.  She  busied  her- 
self, since  she  had  a  few  minutes  to  spare, 
in  laying  out  her  silver  toilet  things  on  the 
dressing  table,  and  hanging  her  clothes  up  in 
the  closet.  She  had  not  brought  a  trunk,  be- 
cause of  the  difficulty  of  transfer  with  throngs 
248 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

arriving  in  the  city  every  hour.     But  two 
suitcases  held  all  that  she  really  needed. 

"I  wonder  if  there  will  be  any  occasion  to 
wear  my  dancing  dress,"  she  thought  as  she 
hung  it  up.  "I'm  glad  I  had  time  to  have  it 
cleaned  and  freshened  up  after  the  siege  it 
had  at  Bostwick.  Oh,  I  do  love  a  hotel."  She 
looked  around  at  the  rose-silk  coverlid,  folded 
into  a  puffy  triangle,  the  shaded  lamp  over 
the  bed,  the  reading  lamp  over  the  desk,  the 
white,  gleaming  bathroom  beyond  with  its 
stock  of  huge  towels.  "I  wonder  if  Madame 
would  think  it  was  bad  of  me  to  love  luxury  ?" 


CHAPTER  XXV 

rHEY  got  to  their  seats  at  a  window  that 
commanded  a  view  of  the  Ice  Palace 
only  a  few  minutes  before  the  fun  began. 
When  Philippa  got  her  first  glimpse  of  it  the 
most  extraordinary  thing  happened :  she  was 
absolutely  dumb.  When  at  last  she  could 
speak  it  was  to  say,  half  to  herself. 

"I  have  often  wondered  about  the  things 
you  read  in  Revelation,  about  gold  and  pearls 
and  jasper  and  all  those  things — and — and 
sardonyx — whatever  that  is.  And  I  still 
wonder.  But — to-night — makes  you  feel  as 
if  it  might  be — just  that  way." 

Far  off,  they  saw  a  luminous,  opalescent 
castle,  a  battlemented  tower  at  each  cor- 
ner. It  radiated  light — a  gleaming  shape  of 
mysterious  beauty.  As  they  looked  one 
tower  turned  a  faint  pink  like  the  inside 
of  a  seashell,  another  an  exquisite  green. 
All  at  once  there  was  a  far-off  sound  of 
250 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

noise.  From  the  turrets  burst  showers  of 
sky-rockets. 

"That's  the  signal,"  said  Mr.  Randolph. 
"The  fight  is  on.  The  snowshoe  clubs  of  the 
city  are  contending  for  the  possession  of  the 
Palace.  The  defenders  have  sent  up  their 
signal.  Now  the  attacking  party  will  file  past 
under  this  window.  And  I've  been  told  they 
are  reviving  the  old  blanket  suits  that  were  in 
use  many  years  ago.  The  Prince  heard  that 
the  costumes  were  picturesque  and  said  he 
would  like  to  see  them.  They  have  been  hunt- 
ing them  up  or  having  new  ones  made  for 
weeks  here." 

"There  they  are,"  called  JefF.  "I  see  them 
coming — Don't  you  see? — Down  there!" 

In  single  file,  every  few  men  preceded  by 
one  holding  aloft  a  blazing  torch,  the  St. 
George  snowshoe  club  came  on.  In  tunics 
and  knickerbockers  of  white  blanket  cloth, 
a  stripe  of  crimson  bordering  the  tunic,  crim- 
son tuque  and  woven  sash,  the  flaring  torches 
casting  a  wild  splendor  over  everything,  the 
men  made  a  splendid  spectacle.  To  a  genera- 
tion accustomed  to  thunderous  noises  in  con- 
nection with  all  their  sports,  the  soundlessness 
of  it  was  impressive.  Shod  with  moccasins, 
251 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

their  snowshoes  making  no  sound  but  a  faint 
rhythmic  padding,  the  primitive  and  pictur- 
esque costume  accentuating  the  stalwart 
strength  of  the  wearers,  it  did  seem  that  men 
of  simpler,  more  primitive  breed  had  come 
back  to  people  the  earth  they  deserted  long  ago. 
Plainly  a  majority  of  them  were  of  the  blond 
type. 

"Oh,  they're  splendid — splendid,"  said  Phil- 
ippa.  "Why  don't  they  wear  suits  like  that 
now?  It  makes  everything  so  much  more 
fun,  to  dress  for  it  like  that — And  it's  so 
beautiful.  Wouldn't  they  be  wonderful  with 
the  sun  striking  them  ?" 

All  the  time  the  men  were  filing  past  under 
their  window,  the  spectacle  of  the  Palace  be- 
came more  and  more  gorgeous.  Attackers 
now  were  firing  at  it :  rockets,  Roman  candles, 
as  well  as  all  the  newer  triumphs  of  pyro- 
technics. The  towers  were  always  glowing 
with  different  colors,  the  air  about  it  was 
flaming  with  star-bursts  and  the  luminous 
paths  of  the  rockets  interwove  in  gorgeous 
arabesques.  The  fight  grew  fiercer  until  the 
air  about  the  jewel-like  thing  was  all  aglare 
with  light.  Then  men  ceased  filing  past  their 
window.  There  was  a  final  crescendo  of  con- 
252 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

tending  radiances.  Evidently  the  issue  was 
decided  for,  far  off,  a  faint  cheer  ascended. 

"And  there's  tobogganing  on  a  real  'chute' 
to-morrow."  It  was  like  Philippa  to  console 
herself  for  the  ending  of  one  joy  by  concen- 
trating all  her  thought  on  the  next. 

When  Philippa  looked  over  the  sheer  drop 
of  her  first  real  toboggan  slide,  whose  angle 
with  the  ground  seemed  to  be  about  forty-five 
degrees,  her  heart  almost  misgave  her.  If  she 
hadn't  been  ashamed,  after  all  her  talking 
about  how  crazy  she  was  to  go  tobogganing, 
she  might  have  begged  off. 

But  nobody  asked  her  whether  she  wanted 
to  go  down  or  not.  Instead,  they  packed  her, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  first  on  the  toboggan. 
The  mild  sport  they  had  had  with  the  little 
slide  they  had  built  up  from  the  top  of  the 
embankment  in  front  of  the  school  to  the  bed 
of  the  river  had  taught  her  how  to  arrange 
herself  on  the  toboggan,  with  her  legs  straight 
out,  feet  under  the  curled  up  end  and  hands 
grasping  the  slight  ridges  at  the  sides.  Jeff 
and  Mr.  Randolph  piled  on  behind  her,  their 
heels  digging  into  the  sides  of  the  toboggan. 
The  Canadian  escort,  Mr.  James  Ogilvie,  knelt 
at  the  back,  his  right  leg  free  to  serve  as 
253 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

rudder  and  brake.  One  of  the  attendants  gave 
them  a  slight  push — They  skimmed  along  an 
instant  on  the  very  slight  incline  at  the  top — 
Then — Philippa's  heart  jumped  to  her  throat 

— They  were  over . 

Fast,  fast,  faster  than  one  could  think  or 
feel.  Your  heart  in  your  mouth,  a  glare  of 
light  in  your  eyes,  wind  whizzing  by  your 
ears,  your  racing  blood  turning  the  icy  air 
into  heat.  Faster,  faster — Oh-h-h-h  a  terri- 
fying leap  into  the  air — Philippa  thinking — 
"If  I  ever  get  to  the  bottom  they  can't  hire 
me  to  come  again !"  Slower — slower — A  gen- 
tle skimming  motion — Pause — Down!  "Oh, 
hurry,  hurry!  Let's  get  to  the  top  again! 
I  never  knew  anything  so  glorious."  Philippa 
was  yards  ahead  of  the  rest,  making  for  the 
long  climb  of  the  stairs. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

AFTER  they  left  for  luncheon,  they  didn't 
*i  get  back  to  the  toboggan  slide  that  day. 
There  were  too  many  other  thrilling  things 
to  do.  First,  that  afternoon  Senator  Ran- 
dolph and  Jeff  and  Philippa  were  among  the 
"distinguished  guests"  at  the  Mayor's  recep- 
tion to  the  Prince  of  Wales.  Philippa,  quite 
confident  that  his  famous  smile — that  delight- 
ful blend  of  diffidence,  frankness,  and  win- 
ning friendliness — was  directed  especially  at 
her,  immediately  bought  all  the  photographs 
she  had  pocket  money  for  and  found  him  a 
most  satisfactory  substitute  for  Mr.  Ross 
Cuthbert  as  a  center  of  daydreams. 

It  is  perhaps  not  surprising  that,  after  an- 
other day  or  so  of  this,  Philippa's  head  should 
have  been  a  little  bit  turned.  To  be  treated 
as  a  distinguished  guest  by  Senator  Randolph 
— and  even  by  Jeff  when  he  remembered  his 
manners;  to  be  waited  on  by  hotel  flunkies 
255 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

and  called,  "Miss  Gale"  by  the  strangers 
whom  she  met ;  to  live  in  the  luxury  of  a  smart 
hotel;  to  have  nothing  to  do  but  be  carried 
from  one  pleasure  to  another  by  a  solicitous 
host  who  was  terribly  afraid  she  wasn't  en- 
joying herself  and  who  petted  her  as  he  would 
have  done  a  daughter  of  his  own;  to  be,  in 
short,  a  grown-up  young  lady  privileged  to 
command  her  subjects,  was  calculated,  surely, 
to  give  a  quite  human  young  person  a  some- 
what inflated  conception  of  her  own  impor- 
tance. Certain  it  was  that  she  looked  with 
much  satisfaction  at  herself  as  she  stood  ar- 
rayed in  the  primrose  yellow  crepe  de  chine 
dancing  frock  that  was  so  becoming  to  her 
and  posed  before  it  to  be  perfectly  sure  how 
she  would  look  to  the  favored  onlooker 
through  all  the  incidents  of  the  coming  ball. 
Her  fascinated  eyes  strayed  to  her  pretty  feet 
in  pale  yellow  silk  stockings  and  satin  slip- 
pers. Except  for  the  "soiree"  it  was  the  first 
time  in  three  months  that  she  had  worn  silk 
stockings  and  she  really  couldn't  keep  her 
eyes  away  from  them  long. 

The  first  sight  of  the  "party"  as  Philippa 
found  herself  calling  it,  was  enough  to  thrill 
any  girl  going  to  her  first  grown-up  fashion- 
256 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

able  ball.  The  big  luxurious  house,  the  beau- 
tiful colors,  the  music  they  heard  coming  from 
the  ball-rooms  as  they  were  being  welcomed 
by  the  host  and  hostess,  all  intoxicated  Phil- 
ippa,  and  she  could  hardly  keep  her  feet  still 
long  enough  to  murmur  a  proper  greeting. 
Jeff — a  slender  and  rather  elegant  figure  in 
his  first  full-dress  clothes — offered  constrain- 
edly to  take  her  up  the  short  flight  of  stairs 
to  the  scene  of  the  dancing.  In  a  few  moments 
they  were  dancing. 

They  had  made  one  or  two  ecstatic  rounds 
before  Philippa  all  at  once  told  herself  that 
the  most  astounding  thing  in  the  world  had 
happened :  she  was  actually  dancing  with  Jeff 
Randolph!  Jeff  Randolph  who  had  stoutly 
refused  to  go  to  any  of  the  high-school  affairs 
that  included  dancing,  or  to  parties  at  the 
houses  of  the  girls  because  he  said  he  was  'no 
cake-eater';  Jeff  whom  she  had  many  times 
offered  to  teach  the  steps  only  to  be  emphat- 
ically refused 

"Jeff  Randolph,"  she  burst  out  accusingly, 
"will  you  tell  me  when  you  learned  to  dance? 
And  I'd  like  to  know  whom  you  got  to  teach 
you.  You  never  would  let  me.  Of  course,  if 

you  thought  I  didn't  know  how " 

257 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"Aw,  can  it,  Pip,"  said  the  elegant  youth 
with  the  clear-featured  dark  face,  "don't  be 
an  egg.  It  just  seemed  to  be  evident  that  it 
was  a  job  that  had  to  be  done  some  time  so 
when  we  were  in  Detroit  Christmas  time  I 
went  and  had  it  done/' 

"You  talk  exactly  as  if  you  had  been  having 
a  tooth  out — Don't  you  think  dancing's 
trick?" 

"Can't  say  I  do,"  said  Jeff  gloomily. 
"Maybe  I  will  sometime,  though."  His  tone 
was  even  gloomier  as  he  made  this  concession. 
"Most  of  us  seem  to  come  to  it.  I  can  do  the 
Ritz,  too." 

In  spite  of  Jeff's  professed  indifference  he 
danced  well.  Whether  his  face  admitted  he 
liked  it  or  not  his  body  did ;  every  muscle  and 
nerve  responded  to  the  rhythm.  Philippa 
stole  an  almost  timid  look  up  into  his  face. 

"If  I  hadn't  known  Jeff  Randolph  for  years 
and  years  and  remembered  how  he  used  to 
look  when  he  came  to  the  Clifton  Park  School 
I  certainly  would  say  he  was  just  most  awfully 
good-looking,"  she  thought.  "He  looks  grown 
up  and  I'm  getting  grown-up,  too — a  little  bit. 
It  makes  things  all  different.  Oh,  dear.  But 
— he  does  look  trick  in  evening  dress." 
258 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

After  that  dance  ended  they  danced  another 
together.  Then  Philippa  began  to  feel  un- 
comfortable. "I  hadn't  thought  how  it  would 
be  not  to  know  anybody,"  she  thought.  "I 
wonder  if  somebody  isn't  going  to  introduce 
me  to  somebody.  It's  fun  to  dance  with  Jeff, 
but  I  don't  want  to  dance  with  him  the  whole 
evening.  And  he  would  get  tired  of  me. 
Oh,  dear,  I  wish  I  could  see  some  one  I  know 
— I  wonder  where  Mr.  Randolph  is.  Per- 
haps he  could  introduce  me." 

But  Senator  Randolph  did  not  appear.  The 
two  young  Americans  were  as  isolated  as 
though  they  had  come  to  another  planet. 
They  danced  the  next  dance  together.  But 
they  were  not  enthusiastic  and  the  gaze  of 
each  of  them  searched  in  the  crowd  for  some- 
one to  deliver  them  from  each  other. 

"Pip'll  get  bored  silly  with  me,"  thought 
Jeff,  while  Philippa  said  to  herself :  "It's  all 
very  well  to  know  that  it's  just  because  I 
don't  know  anyone  here.  A  boy  never  thinks 
of  that ;  he  just  thinks  he  got  stuck  with  her." 

It  was  while  they  were  wandering  around 

rather  disconsolately  after  the  third  dance 

that  they  saw  Margaret  Dixon.     Ordinarily 

the  vision  of  Margaret  Dixon  would  not  have 

259 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

inspired  enthusiasm  in  either  of  them,  and 
this  evening,  in  the  most  severely  jeune  file 
white  frock  that  could  have  been  conceived, 
her  heavy  hair  still  uncompromisingly  hang- 
ing down  her  back,  she  looked  very  much  as 
she  did  at  the  Chateau.  But,  after  all,  Mar- 
garet was  somebody  whom  they  knew.  So 
they  made  their  way  joyously  toward  her. 
Margaret,  too,  in  her  matter-of-fact  way,  was 
glad  to  see  them. 

"It  is  very  nice  to  see  you,"  she  said.  "We 
can  swap  off  dances."  Her  eyes  were  can- 
didly fixed  on  Jeff.  "Just  wait  a  minute  and 
I'll  bring  some  people  up  to  introduce  to  you." 
In  a  minute  or  so  she  had  reappeared.  The 
older  woman  proved  to  be  Margaret's  mother, 
one  of  the  girls  was  her  sister,  two  of  the 
youths  her  brothers.  The  fourth  young  man 
she  introduced  to  Philippa  with  a  perfectly 
apparent  conviction  that  she  was  doing  her 
school-mate  a  favor.  "He's  the  son  of  the 
Premier,  down  from  Ottawa,"  she  said  to 
Philippa  as  soon  as  she  could  get  her  aside. 
"Now  I've  paid  back  the  good  turn  you  did 
me  in  introducing  me  to  your  friend." 

The  rest  of  the  evening  was  a  complete 
success.  With  this  party,  increased  by  Sen- 
260 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

ator  Randolph  as  soon  as  he  came  into  the 
room,  as  a  background,  Philippa  had  a  won- 
derful time.  Margaret's  two  brothers  and  a 
cousin,  together  with  Jeff,  kept  her  on  the 
floor  all  the  time. 

And  a  very  surprising  glimpse  of  Mr. 
Hugh  Ditmer,  oddly  enough,  added  to  Phil- 
ippa's  satisfaction.  He  was  dancing  a  great 
deal  with  a  pretty  girl  to  whom  he  seemed  very 
devoted.  This  made  Philippa  feel  indignant 
because  of  Helen,  but  also  glad. 

"If  he  doesn't  care  any  more  for  Helen 
than  that,"  she  thought.  "He  certainly  must 
be  going  to  leave  her  alone." 

As  the  evening  wore  on  there  was  a  fly  in 
her  ointment,  however.  Young  George  Mac- 
Kenzie,  the  Premier's  son,  after  having  asked 
her  to  keep  a  dance  for  him,  did  not  return 
to  claim  it.  In  her  new-born  capacity  of 
young  woman  of  the  world,  Philippa  resented 
this  deeply.  "If  he  said  he  wanted  a  dance 
he  should  have  come  for  it.  It's  insulting,  I 
think,  for  him  not  to.  Just  because  he's  the 
son  of  the  Premier  doesn't  give  him  the  right 
to  be  rude."  After  a  time,  her  indignation 
grew  so  great  that  she  couldn't  keep  it  to  her- 
self. She  confided  it  to  the  other  girls.  Mar- 
261 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

garet,  too  pleased  with  the  fact  that  she  was 
dancing  almost  all  of  the  numbers  to  be 
seriously  disturbed  by  anything,  endeavored 
to  find  excuses  for  the  young  man.  The 
other  girls,  however,  probably  rather  amused 
at  the  high-headed  little  American  girl  rather 
egged  her  on  until  MacKenzie  became  a  dis- 
tinct grievance. 

"He'll  just  see!"  Philippa  was  so  excited 
by  this  time  that  her  eyes  were  as  bright  as 
diamonds  and  her  cheeks  a  deep,  deep  pink. 
"When  he  does  ask  me  for  that  dance —  if 
he  ever  does — I'm  not  going  to  dance  with 
him" 

"Oh,  but  you'll  have  to,"  said  Margaret's 
older  sister,  trying  to  keep  her  face  very  sober. 

"I  just  won't.     You'll  see." 

"But  how  can  you  get  out  of  it?" 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders  with  great 
nonchalance. 

"I'll  say  I  don't  care  to  dance." 

"I  dare  you."  Miss  Dixon  was  laughing 
outright  now. 

"Done."  Philippa  shut  her  mouth  with  in- 
flexible resolve. 

She  was  just  a  little  bit  sorry  for  the  stand 
she  had  taken  when  George  MacKenzie,  look- 
262 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

ing  distinctly  worried,  appeared.  As  he  saw 
her  his  face  cleared. 

"Oh,  you're  the  one.  I  got  all  tangled  up 
with  my  program.  May  we  have  our  dance 
now  ?" 

If  Philippa  had  been  alone  her  indignation 
would  have  immediately  evaporated;  the 
young  man  looked  honestly  disconcerted. 
But  Miss  Dixon  was  looking  on  with  satirical 
smile.  Philippa  felt  that  she  must  make  good 
her  threat. 

"I  do  not  care  to  dance,  thank  you." 

Young  MacKenzie  stood  looking  at  her  in 
silence,  his  mouth  a  little  open.  He  looked 
very  young.  Once  he  opened  his  mouth  with 
the  evident  intention  of  saying  something, 
but  thought  better  of  it,  bowed  jerkily  and 
departed. 

"So  you  did  do  it  after  all."  Miss  Dixon 
laughed  lightly  and  went  away  with  a  partner 
who  had  just  appeared  to  claim  her.  Phil- 
ippa would  have  had  to  sit  out  the  dance  en- 
tirely alone  had  Mr.  Randolph  not  appeared 
to  keep  her  company.  She  chattered  viva- 
ciously while  her  eyes  were  on  the  dancers. 
She  was  looking  to  see  whether  Mr.  Mac- 
Kenzie had  found  a  partner.  But  he  did  not 
is  263 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

appear  and  Philippa  felt  more  and  more 
uncomfortable. 

A  little  later  refreshments  were  served. 
Philippa  was  standing  alone  for  a  moment 
when  she  caught  sight  of  the  Premier's  son 
sitting  alone  on  a  thickly  padded  step  of  the 
great  staircase.  Something  in  his  rather  dis- 
consolate attitude  caught  at  Philippa's  quick 
sympathy.  Although  she  knew  it  was  absurd 
she  couldn't  help  feeling  as  if  she  were  re- 
sponsible for  his  gloom.  If  she  had  taken 
time  to  think  she  wouldn't  have  spoken;  but 
acting  on  impulse  she  did  what  was  apparently 
the  right  thing.  For  as  soon  as  she  had 
crossed  over  to  where  he  was  and  said: 

"I'm  sorry  I  was  so  silly  about  that  dance. 
I  just  got  peeved  because  you  were  so  long 
coming  for  it.  You  see,  I'm  a  stranger  here 
and  I  suppose  I  was  showing  off."  He  looked 
up  with  a  quick  boyish  smile  and  moved  a 
little  to  make  a  place  beside  him  with  evident 
eagerness. 

"I  just  thought  I  had  made  some  mistake 
that  I  didn't  know  anything  about.  I'm  not 
used  to  shows  like  this,  you  know.  So  far  I'd 
been  able  to  fight  shy  of  them  but  the  Gov- 
ernor seemed  to  think  I  ought  to  break  into 
264 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

things  a  bit.  I  really  had  got  all  tied  up 
about  your  name.  But  I'll  say  you  did  bowl 
me  over."  Then  they  both  laughed  with 
eager  friendliness. 

"Say — how  old  are  you  ?"  It  was  just  be- 
ginning to  dawn  on  Philippa  that  this  was 
no  real  young  man  after  all,  but  just  a  bash- 
ful boy. 

"I'm  seventeen  and  a  half,"  he  said,  and 
blushed. 

"Gosh!     I  thought  you  were  grown  up." 

By  this  time  young  MacKenzie  was  daring. 

"How  old  are  you?"  he  demanded. 

"Don't  you  tell  anybody — I'm  fifteen." 
Then  she  blushed  and  then  they  both  burst 
out  laughing  so  that  passers-by  turned  to  look 
at  them  with  much  sympathy. 

"A  mere  infant,"  he  said  finally,  with  quite 
successful  scorn  in  his  voice.  "To  turn  me 
down.  I  say,  let  me  get  you  something  to  eat 
and  we'll  stay  out  here  and  talk.  These  stairs 
are  the  best  thing  about  this  house — I  know 
because  I've  sampled  them  often  enough — 
when  I  was  sliding  down  the  banisters." 

"Oh,  but  Jeff  will  be  coming  back  in  a 
minute." 

"Who's  Jeff?" 

265 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"Just  a  friend  of  mine.  We're  from  the 
States,  you  know.  I'm  here  with  his  father 
and  Jeff.  His  father's  Senator  Randolph." 

"How  old  is  this  Jeff?  If  he's  any  stiff 
old  guy  who's  going  to  spoil  everything ?" 

This  time  Philippa's  delicious  voice  rang 
out  unrestrainedly. 

"He's — Jeff's — seventeen!  There  he  is — 
the  tall  boy  loaded  up  with  food." 

"I  say,  Randolph,"  sang  out  the  Canadian. 
"Miss  Gale  and  I  think  this  is  just  the  spot 
for  a  feed.  If  you'll  look  out  for  her  I'll  go 
and  forage.  I  know  old  Pie- face  who  buttles 
here  and  he'll  let  me  in  on  the  best  of  his  line.' 

By  the  time  he  came  back  Philippa  had 
hailed  Margaret  Dixon  and  annexed  her. 
And  the  royal  good  time  the  four  had  and  the 
amount  they  consumed  could  probably  not 
have  been  equalled  by  any  other  guests  at 
"the  most  brilliant  ball  of  the  season,"  as  the 
papers  called  it  the  next  day. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

rHE  cold  weather  held  without  break  for 
about  three  weeks  after  Philippa  and 
Jeff  got  back  to  Lanoraie.  Every  day  the 
girls  coasted  down  the  little  slide  they  had 
built  in  front  of  the  Chateau,  and  when  night 
came,  sometimes  with  the  help  of  Jeff  or  other 
boys  from  the  school,  poured  water  down 
the  chute,  so,  by  morning,  they  would  have  a 
glassy  smooth  descent  again.  Sometimes 
they  went  on  long  snowshoe  tramps  clear 
across  island  and  river  to  Sorel  and  back,  or 
into  the  silent  recesses  of  the  ice-bound  forest. 
They  grew  more  and  more  hardy  and  ruddy 
every  day  and  able  to  withstand  cold  and 
hardship  that  Philippa  would  never  have 
dreamed  she  could  endure. 

On  one  Saturday  morning  she  was  fasten- 
ing the  thongs  of  her  snowshoes  about 
her  ankles  when  little  Mademoiselle  called 
to  her. 

267 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"Phileepa,  I  am  much  afraid  it  may  rain. 
It  looks  to  me  as  if  the  weather  would  break. 
There  is  a  softness  in  the  air." 

"I  won't  go  far."  Philippa  stood  and 
watched  Mademoiselle  as  she  turned  back  into 
the  house.  It  seemed  as  though  the  little 
figure  had  something  forlorn  and  drooping 
about  it. 

Instead  of  taking  the  "winter  road"  marked 
off  across  the  ice  by  parallel  rows  of  evergreen 
trees,  their  trunks  buried  in  the  snow.  Phil- 
ippa kept  to  the  unbroken  snow  at  the  side. 
The  crust  was  so  hard  that  her  snowshoes  left 
no  marks  on  it.  There  was  no  sign  of  soften- 
ing as  far  as  she  could  see.  Possibly  there 
was  the  least  possible  tinge  of  moisture  in  the 
air  that  was  usually  so  dry  and  bracing. 
It  was  the  first  time  she  had  gone  out  alone 
and  she  had  an  inspiring  sense  of  adventure 
as  she  sped  along,  through  the  white  world, 
no  team,  even,  in  sight  along  the  long  straight 
road. 

She  sang  everything  she  could  think  of, 
sending  her  voice  fearlessly  out  into  the 
friendly  space  about  her.  Usually  she  was 
too  afraid  of  being  teased  to  do  that,  and  it 
gave  her  a  sense  of  boundless  power  that  was 
268 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

intoxicating.  In  her  jubilation  she  uncon- 
sciously took  a  dancing  step.  The  first  thing 
that  she  was  conscious  of  after  that  was  of 
lying  sprawled  out  on  the  snow. 

Laughing  she  scrambled  to  her  feet,  only 
to  find  that  the  rim  of  one  of  her  snowshoes 
was  broken.  She  took  a  few  steps,  but  found 
that  it  was  going  to  be  impossible  to  use  it. 
The  thing  doubled  up  disconcertingly,  tripping 
her  up  at  every  step. 

"I'll  just  have  to  walk  home  on  the  crust," 
she  thought.  "I'm  sure  it  ought  to  bear  me 
up." 

At  first  as,  with  her  snowshoes  slung  over 
her  shoulder,  she  trod  cautiously  on  the  icy 
crust,  it  did  bear  her  up.  Sometimes  the 
crust  cracked  a  little,  but  she  didn't  really 
break  through.  But  the  sun,  dimmed  as  it 
was  with  the  moisture  in  the  air,  still  had 
power  and,  as  it  rose  higher,  there  were  signs 
of  softening  of  the  snow-crust.  Once  or  twice 
her  foot  broke  through  up  to  her  ankle  and 
the  snow  underneath  seemed  to  be  a  little 
soggy.  As  she  drew  near  enough  to  shore  to 
see  plainly  the  red  roof  of  the  Chateau,  she 
thought,  "I  believe  the  weather  is  going  to 
break ;  I'm  glad  I  won't  have  much  more  of 
269 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

this.  In  a  little  while  the  crust  won't  bear  me 
up  at  all ;  and  there  must  be  three  feet  of  wet 
snow  underneath." 

At  that  moment  she  paused  involuntarily  to 
see  who  was  the  occupant  of  the  sleigh  that 
was  coming  straight  toward  her  along  the 
winter  road.  It  was  from  the  village  livery 
stable;  she  knew  the  sorrel  horse  that  the 
Chateau  girls  often  engaged.  It  might  be 
some  one  who  would  take  her  in,  and  walking 
was  beginning  to  be  a  toilsome  proposition. 
Sure  enough,  it  was  Helen  Odell. 

"I  thought  I'd  overtake  you,"  she  called  out 
to  Philippa.  "Madame  said  we  could  have 
a  sleigh-ride,  and  Mademoiselle  told  me  the 
road  you  had  taken.  Jump  in." 

Throwing  her  useless  snowshoes  into  the 
sleigh,  Philippa  gladly  jumped  in. 

"Helen  certainly  does  look  beautiful  this 
morning,"  she  thought,  with  something  like 
awe.  "I  never  saw  her  with  such  pink  cheeks 
before  and  her  eyes  are  just  gorgeous." 

Back  toward  the  island  Philippa  was  car- 
ried in  the  sleigh,  this  time  jingling  along  in 
comfort. 

"I'll  tell  you  I'm  glad  you  came  along," 
she  said,  settling  down  cosily  under  the  rug. 
270 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"I  was  beginning  to  wonder  how  long  I'd  hold 
out." 

"Not  any  gladder  than  I  am  that  I  found 
you."  Helen  gave  her  a  queer  triumphant 
look.  Then  she  laughed.  "You  know  I 
can't  go  out  without  my  jailor." 

"Now,  Helen,  I  think  that's  a  little  unkind." 
Philippa  couldn't  help  showing  she  was  hurt. 

"Perhaps  it  is."  Helen's  tone  was  singu- 
larly unrepentant.  "But  you  can't  expect  me 
to  be  pleased  at  being  watched  like  this — or 
to  like  you  any  the  better  for  being  the  one 
told  off  to  shadow  me.  And  if  they  think 
that  it  is  going  to  keep  me  from  Hugh  they 
are  much  mistaken.  I'll  see  him  in  spite  of 
them  all.  They  must  think  I'm  very  stupid 
not  to  be  able  to  outwit  them."  She  laughed 
with  hysterical  violence.  Philippa  began  to 
be  afraid  of  something — she  knew  not  what. 

She  sat  in  silence,  trying  helplessly  to  think 
of  something  she  could  say.  She  felt  that 
the  situation  was  altogether  too  much  for  her 
inexperience  to  deal  with.  She  didn't  know 
what  to  do  or  say. 

If  she  had  said  anything  Helen  was  evi- 
dently in  no  mood  to  listen  to  her.  With  her 
eyes  feverishly  searching  the  white  expanse 
271 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

ahead  of  them,  she  seemed  to  have  forgotten 
Philippa's  existence. 

"What  is  that  dark  spot  ahead  of  us?"  She 
was  evidently  speaking  to  herself  more  than 
to  Philippa,  for  she  did  not  wait  for  an  answer. 

"Is  it ?  Yes,  it  is  somebody — it's  a  man." 

She  struck  the  horse  a  much  harder  blow  with 
the  whip  than  she  had  intended,  for  he  bolted 
indignantly.  She  had  all  she  could  do  to  pull 
him  down  again  into  a  trot. 

A  definite  fear  began  to  assail  Philippa. 
"Helen,  you  are  not ?"  She  never  fin- 
ished the  sentence  that  nobody  was  listening 
to.  It  was  answered  for  her  without  any 
word  from  Helen.  For  the  dark  shape  began 
to  resolve  itself  into  a  man — a  man  on  snow- 
shoes  with  an  oddly  familiar  appearance. 
Her  fear  became  a  certainty.  Hugh  Ditmer 
was  waiting  for  them,  bending  down  taking 
off  his  snowshoes. 

"You  see?"  Helen  turned  toward  her  a 
head  defiantly — triumphantly — high.  "Did 
you  suppose  that  you  or  anybody  else — even 
Madame,  who  is  so  used  to  managing  every- 
body that  she  thinks  I'm  going  to  bow  down 
and  worship,  too — can  keep  me  from  the  man 
I  love  and  am  going  to  marry — marry — do 
272 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

you  hear?  And  this  very  day,  too!  He  has 
got  everything  arranged — waiting  for  me. 
Oh,  he  knows  how  to  do  things.  If  the  old 
priests  and  rectors  and  things  are  too  stuffy 
to  marry  people  without  there  old  banns  and 
parents'  consent  and  things  there  are  other 
men  who  can  do  it  who  are  not  so  fussy.  And 
it's  all  arranged  and  you  are  coming  with 
me  so  they  won't  suspect  anything.  They'll 
think  we're  taking  a  "nice  long  sleigh-ride" 
until  it's  all  over  and  we're  off  together  and 
they  can't  prevent  it — they  can't  prevent  it, 
do  you  hear?" 

Helen's  voice  was  almost  strident,  with  a 
painful  edge  o'f  excitement  in  it — shaky  at 
unexpected  moments.  It  seemed  almost  as 
if  there  were  a  sob  in  it  somewhere.  And 
Philippa,  utterly  overwhelmed,  sat  stupidly, 
not  even  thinking  what  she  could  do. 

With  great  effort  Helen  drew  in  the  horse 
long  enough  for  Hugh  Ditmer  to  scramble 
in.  The  man  crowded  down  in  the  one  wide 
seat,  forcing  himself  between  the  two  girls. 
With  a  long  sigh,  that  was  almost  a  sob,  Helen 
put  the  reins  into  his  hands. 


273 


CHAPTER    XXVIII 

"  \7OU  are  late."  Hugh  Ditmer  turned  to 
I  Helen  with  a  smile  whose  confident 
power  Philippa,  even,  felt  the  fascination  of — 
but  which  also  made  her  distrust  him  more. 
To-day  he  was  not  noticing  Philippa  at  all; 
one  would  have  thought  he  had  never  seen 
her  before. 

"He  wasn't  that  way  the  day  I  met  him  by 
the  Old  Cheese  Factory,"  she  thought 
shrewdly.  "Of  course,  you  can't  blame  him 
for  thinking  about  nobody  but  Helen  to-day. 
And  yet — you  would  have  been  expecting  him 
to  be  thinking  about  her  too  much  to  notice  me 
that  day,  too.  And  he  looked  at  that  girl  he 
was  dancing  with  in  Montreal  just  as  he  does 
at  Helen  now.  If  he  can  pretend  one  time  he 
may  be  pretending  all  the  time.  Oh,  I've  got 
to  do  something.  He's  going  to  make  Helen 
unhappy  somehow — I  know  he  will.  But  I 
can't  do  anything.  They've  tricked  me." 
274 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

She  sat  in  silence  while  bits  that  came  to 
her  from  the  low-toned  conversation  that  was 
going  on  at  her  right  made  her  realize  more 
and  more  how  well  the  two  had  laid  their 
plans.  Yes,  she  was  helpless. 

All  at  once  a  wave  of  angry  determination 
came  over  her. 

"If  I  was  old  enough  to  go  to  a  real  ball, 
and  old  enough  to  have  Madame  trust  me,  I 
ought  to  be  old  enough  to  think  of  something 
to  do.  Anyway,  I'm  not  going  to  help  them 
to  do  wrong — I  know  it's  wrong.  And  it's 
helping  them  to  stay  here.  I  can  try  some- 
thing anyway — they'll  never  listen  to  me — 
but  how  can  I  get  back  ?  The  snow  is  getting 
softer  and  softer.  The  crust  won't  hold. 
Here  we  are  on  the  island.  But  there's 
nobody  there  in  the  winter.  The  O'Neills 
shut  up  the  farmhouse  and  come  into  town — 
unless  this  should  happen  to  be  the  time  Tom 
O'Neill  comes  to  take  care  of  the  stock.  Not 
a  sign  of  anybody.  If  they  have  a  telephone 
in  the  house  it's  cut  off.  But  I'm  going  to  do 
something." 

All  at  once  she  startled  the  absorbed  pair 
by  standing  up  in  the  sleigh. 

"Let  me  out!" 

275 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Hugh  Ditmer  turned  to  her  in  amused 
contempt. 

"What  do  you  think  you're  going  to 
do,  anyway?"  he  drawled.  "Just  want  to 
make  a  scene  to  show  you  disapprove  of  us 
so  you  can  tell  the  saintly  lady  who  bosses 
you?" 

"I'm  going  back,"  Philippa  said  briefly. 

"Don't  be  an  idiot."  Helen  spoke  sharply. 
"You  can't  gain  anything  by  making  a  martyr 
of  yourself.  We're  almost  half  the  way 
there  now;  there  isn't  a  sleigh  in  sight  and 
there  won't  be ;  everyone  who  is  going  to  mar- 
ket got  there  hours  ago.  Don't  you  suppose 
we  thought  it  all  out?  Your  snowshoe  is 
broken  and  it'll  take  you  hours  to  wade 
through  this  slush ;  it's  getting  worse  every 
minute.  We'll  be  married  and  on  our  way 
ages  before  you  can  get  back  to  Lanoraie. 
Anyway,  I  should  think  you'd  be  ashamed  to 
spy  on  a  friend."  She  looked  at  Philippa 
with  hostile,  flashing  eyes. 

"I'm  doing  what  I've  got  to  do.  If  you 
don't  stop  I'll  jump  out.  If  you  keep  me 
with  you  I'll  make  things  hard  for  you  when 
you  get  to  Sorel."  Philippa  herself  hardly 
recognized  the  cool  person  who  was  speaking. 
276 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Hugh  Ditmer's  cheaply  handsome  face 
turned  dark  red  with  anger. 

"Oh,  let  the  damned  little  fool  go,  Helen," 
he  said.  "And  the  worse  time  she  has  of  it 
the  better."  Helen  looking  at  him  in  a  startled 
way  suddenly  took  fire. 

"Yes!  Get  out.  Go  anywhere  you  want 
to.  I  don't  care  what  happens  to  you !"  She 
burst  into  pettish,  excited  tears. 

In  the  sudden  lull  when  Ditmer  stopped  the 
sleigh  Philippa  slid  out  and  reached  for  the 
man's  snowshoes.  But  he  was  too  quick  for 
her.  With  a  tantalizing  laugh  he  drew  them 
beyond  her  reach.  Then  he  whipped  up  the 
horse  and  Philippa  stood  in  the  deep  snow  of 
the  road,  alone,  her  one  good  snowshoe  in  her 
hand. 

Without  allowing  herself  to  think  too  much 
about  the  prospect  she  fastened  the  shoe  on 
her  right  foot,  and  turned  her  head  home- 
ward. First,  she  scrambled  out  of  the  road 
on  to  the  crust. 

"It  held  me  a  little  while  ago,"  she  thought. 
"Maybe  it  will  now."  For  a  little  way  it  did 
hold  and  her  heart  was  beating  high  with  con- 
fidence. "At  this  rate  maybe  I  can  get  back 
before  they  reach  Sorel.  Lots  of  things 
277 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

might  happen  to  them.  If  the  road  gets  much 
worse  it  may  be  impassable  for  them.  The 
horse  may  founder.  Even  if  they  get  there 
before  me  Madame  may  know  how  to  stop 
their  being  married  even  then.  But  I  must 
hurry — hurry " 

Her  left  foot  broke  through  the  crust  and 
went  down  through  a  foot  or  more  of  soggy 
snow  to  water.  With  her  weight  on  the 
snowshoe  she  pulled  it  out,  running  water.  It 
was  uncomfortable  and,  as  soon  as  the  cold 
air  got  to  it,  painful.  But  she  kept  on. 
There  was  nothing  else  to  do. 

The  edge  of  the  crust  each  time  she  broke 
through  was  icy  sharp.  Her  ankles  were  soon 
cut  and  bleeding.  But  she  was  off  the  island 
and  back  again  on  the  familiar  stretch  that 
led  to  Lanoraie.  She  pulled  herself  up  out 
of  the  slouch  of  despondency  into  an  attitude 
of  determined  cheerfulness.  Any  moment 
now  she  might  meet  some  returning  market 
man  and  get  him  to  take  her  in  and  drive  her 
to  the  Chateau. 

As  the  morning  wore  toward  noon  the  sun 

dispersed  the  clouds  and  the  crust  of  the  snow 

became  softer  and  softer.    Philippa  now  went 

through    at    almost    every    step.     She   was 

278 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

soaked  to  her  knees;  the  right  leg  was  so 
splashed  with  the  wet  snow  she  dragged  up 
with  almost  every  step  that  it  was  as  wet  as 
the  left  one.  The  left  leg  was  so  sore  from 
the  crust  that  she  changed  the  snowshoe. 
Beside  the  fearful  discomfort  the  tremendous 
exertion  required  with  every  struggling  foot- 
step began  to  exhaust  her.  After  each  step 
she  was  forced  to  pause  and  get  her  breath. 
It  was  then  that  she  wondered  whether  she 
could  take  another  step.  Still  no  cheerful 
sound  of  sleigh-bells  broke  the  silence.  No 
sleigh  came  in  sight. 

"I — don't — believe — I  can  go — one  step 
farther."  For  the  first  time  Philippa  fell 
down  upon  the  crust. 

Madame  d'Albert  was  just  leaving  her  room 
to  take  her  place  at  the  luncheon  table  when 
she  heard  a  queer  sound  in  the  hall  below  that 
followed  the  opening  of  the  door.  It  was 
something  between  a  sigh  and  a  sob.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  it  shaped  the  beginning  of 
a  call  to  her.  She  ran  down.  Philippa  lay  in 
a  heap  on  the  floor,  her  face  gray  rather  than 
white  and  the  water  widening  in  a  dark  puddle 
on  the  floor  about  her.  She  dragged  her  eyes 
open  long  enough  to  see  Madame. 

19 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"Helen — he  met  her — couldn't  help  — 


Then  her  eyes  closed  and  she  was  silent. 

"Oh,  I  have  to  wake  her — it's  exhaustion 
not  a  faint.  The  poor  baby — I  have  to 
know."  And  Madame,  shuddering  while  she 
shook  the  child's  shoulders,  repeated  her  ques- 
tion endlessly  so  the  first  instant  of  awakening 
would  hold  the  answer.  "Where  have  they 
gone?  Are  they  married  yet?" 

Philippa  dragged  her  eyes  open. 

"I  can't,"  she  said  pettishly.  Then  some- 
thing of  Madame's  passionate  insistence 
found  its  way  to  her.  "No — I  don't  know. 
At  Sorel."  She  was  asleep  again. 

"Where  ? — who  is  to  marry  them  ?"  Again 
she  had  to  go  over  it.  It  seemed  an  hour, 
although  Mademoiselle  Mimi,  whom  she  had 
called  in  the  first  instant,  had  not  yet  time  to 
get  to  her.  At  last,  with  shut  eyes,  the  girl 
murmured  drowsily.  "No  priest — no  rector 
— don't  know " 

"Mimi,"  Madame  lifted  Philippa  with  one 
arm  while  she  beckoned  Mademoiselle  on  the 
stairs  frantically  with  the  other.  "Take  the 
child,  and  put  her  into  a  cold  bath,  then  put 
hot  water  bottles  all  around  her — in  bed- 
extra  comforts  in  my  room.  Hot  milk; 
280 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

no,  first  aromatic  spirits  of  ammonia.  Rub 
her  well — camphorated  oil  will  do.  I'll  send 
the  messages.  It  is  evidently  a  justice  of  the 
peace  they  are  going  to.  Helen,  you  know. 
I'll  phone  Tante  Louisa.  She  will  do  all  that 
can  be  done."  She  bent  over  Philippa  and 
kissed  her  with  passionate  tenderness.  "And 
now,  ma  pauvre  petite  enfant — who  has  been 
bravest  of  the  brave — un  soldat,  ma  fillette 
bien-aimee,  then  you  shall  have  all." 

Hours  afterward — it  seemed  to  her  weeks 
— Philippa  opened  her  drowsy  eyes  to 
feel  restfully  that  she  was  in  a  world  of 
most  superhuman,  delicious  comfort.  She 
was  warm — oh  so  unspeakably  warm  and 
so  unspeakably  content.  All  around  her 
was  warmth  and  softness.  But  there  were 
voices. 

After  a  long  time  she  cocked  one  eye  open. 
It  probably  was  a  dream  that  showed  her 
Madame  there,  bending  over  a  huddled  figure. 

"It  is  a  dream  because  Helen  went  some- 
where— and  she  wouldn't  come  back — I — I 
wish  people  in  dreams  wouldn't  talk  that  way. 
It  makes  me  feel  like  crying  — — " 

The  voice  was  saying — it  was  Madame's: 
"You  will  rejoice.  You  will  thank  the  child 
281 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

that  saved  you.  Not  now.  You  cannot. 
But  that  you  will  do.  Had  there  been  some- 
one like  her,  to  know  and  to  act,  I  would  not 
have  been — as  I  was — ground  between  the 
mill-stones.  Helen,  my  child — for  you  are  like 
the  child  of  my  own  suffering — there  was 
once  in  my  life  a  man,  like  that  man,  whom 
I  loved — whom  I  thought  I  loved.  See  how  I 
lay  bare  the  wound  in  my  own  heart  that  you 
may  be  comforted.  Of  what  use  is  it  to  suffer 
if  it  be  not  so  one  can  warn  others  ?  And  you 
may  know  that  you  are  blessed  to  have 
escaped  it.  He  was  a  man  who  drew  my 
child's  heart  out  of  me  and  flung  it  back  to 
me  an  anguished  woman's.  Others  opposed. 
But  I  thought  they  did  not  know,  because  they 
were  old  and  could  not  feel  what  I  felt.  So 
he,  too,  called  and  I,  too,  went.  There  was 
no  little  friend  to  struggle  home  through  the 
snow  to  save  me.  He  was  a  man— like  that 
Mr.  Hugh  Ditmer.  There  are  those  men  who 
seem  to  love  to  crush  the  loving  fools  whom 
they  snatch  to  them.  Helen,  if  you  could 

know — how  that  man  was — cruel " 

The  terror  in  the  very  sound  of  that  last 
word  rudely  dispelled  the  mist  that  seemed  to 
hide  the  two  from  Philippa.     She  opened  her 
282 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

eyes,  but  shut  them  again.  It  surely  was 
not  right  to  look  at  Madame's  face  when  that 
pitiful  look  was  on  it. 

"She  looks  like  a  frightened  child,"  thought 
Philippa.  "How  can  she — when  she  is 
— Madame  ?" 

" — It  is — because  I  saw  that  same  thing  in 
him — not  because  it  was  the  will  of  your  fam- 
ily— that  I  wanted  to  protect  you.  If  I  had 
thought  he  would  make  you  happy,  I  would 
never  have  taken  one  step.  But  he  would 
have  tortured  you — taken  your  soul  in  his 
angry  hands  and  twisted  it  this  way  and  that, 
to  suit  his  whim — to  prove  that  he  was  master. 
I  saw  he  was  a  man  that  would  do,  as  Simon 
d' Albert  did  to  me — a  child  not  yet  seventeen. 

At  last "  Her  voice  had  sunk  to  an 

almost  ghastly  whisper.  The  whisper  told  so 
much  that  Philippa  felt  the  sweat  cold  on  her 
as  if  she  were  seeing  some  moment  of  incon- 
ceivable suffering.  "At  last  I  took  my  pre- 
cious baby,  my  Mimi,  and  I  stole  from  Simon 
d' Albert's  house,  not  waiting  to  put  even  a 
cloak  over  me,  only  to  catch  up  a  blanket  for 
the  child.  I  went  out  in  the  night,  in  my  thin 
night  clothes,  walking  over  fields  through 
snow,  to  my  parent's  house.  I  felt  nothing. 
283 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

I  saw  nothing  because  I  was  going  to  shelter 
— and  away  from  him." 

With  utter  abandon  Helen  had  thrown  her- 
self into  Madame  d' Albert's  arms. 

"I  felt  it.  I  felt  afraid  sometimes.  I  knew 
— I  knew  there  was  something  wrong  in  him. 
But  I  wouldn't  give  in.  I  couldn't.  Because, 
though  it  was  terrible  sometimes  to  feel — a 
sort  of  chill — to  be  afraid,  other  times — and 
I  couldn't  give  that  up — sometimes  it  was — 
so  sweet." 

Philippa,  with  her  eyes  tight  closed,  lay 
motionless,  hoping — hoping  that  the  tears 
would  not  make  their  way  down  her  cheeks." 

"I  don't  know  what  it's  all  about,  but  it 
sounds  sad,"  she  thought.  "And — I  don't 
believe  I'd  better  let  Helen  know  I  heard." 
She  turned  her  head  so  they  couldn't  see  her 
face. 

"See,  the  child  is  waking,"  whispered 
Madame.  "Don't  you  want  to  say  something 
to  her?" 

But  Helen's  melting  mood  was  gone. 

"I  can't,"  she  said,  and  hurried  from  the 
room. 

"Now  Helen  is  mad  at  me  again,"  thought 
Philippa,  rather  piteously.  "But  Madame 
284 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

seems  to  think  I  did  right.  I  wonder — why 
I  thought  he  wasn't  good  enough  for  Helen  ? 
It  just  seemed  to  me  that  he  didn't  look  at  her 
the  way  La'  looks  at  Doreen." 

Madame  came  toward  the  bed  and  pulled 
the  covers  more  closely  about  Philippa's 
shoulders. 

"You  are  awake  at  last,  my  little  Phileepa  ? 
You  have  slept  the  round  of  the  clock.  My 
sister  Louisa  in  Sorel  was  able  to  find  Helen 
at  the  house  of  the  justice  of  the  peace  who 
would  soon  have  married  her  to  that  man. 
You  have  much  exhausted  yourself,  ma  petite, 
but  you  will  always  have  joy  to  have  saved 
your  friend  from  wretchedness." 

Then,  with  exquisite  tenderness,  she  kissed 
Philippa's  cheek  and  went  out,  closing  the 
door  after  her  with  soft  precision. 

All  at  once,  as  Philippa  lay,  slowly  grasp- 
ing again  the  details  of  the  scenes  through 
which  she  had  so  recently  passed,  a  flash  of 
intuition  came  to  her. 

"It  is  because  Madame  is  afraid  for 
Mademoiselle — in  that  same  way — that  she 
does  not  like  Mr.  Ross  Cuthbert.  But  I  know 
he  isn't  like  Mr.  Hugh  Ditmer.  Why,  Mr. 
Cuthbert  is  fine.  And  Mademoiselle  just 
285 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

adores  her  mother,  so  she  won't  let  herself 
think  of  him.  That's  why  she  looks  unhappy 
— and — oh,  yes — he  hoped  to  meet  her  out  at 
the  Manor  that  first  day  I  went  snowshoeing. 
Oh,  poor  little  Mademoiselle  Mimi !  She  isn't 
free,  either." 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

A  FTER  this  exciting  experience  the  Cha- 
*1  teau  de  Liberte  reverted  to  its  normal, 
workaday  school  existence  with  surprising 
rapidity.  Nobody  but  Madame  and  Made- 
moiselle and  Philippa  knew  of  Helen's  esca- 
pade and  they  all  tried  to  bury  the  memory 
of  it  as  completely  as  possible.  Bitter  cold 
weather  froze  everything  solid  again  and 
weeks  of  hard  study  lay  before  the  examina- 
tions that  preceded  the  Easter  vacation.  At 
Philippa's  suggestion  snowshoe  races  were 
organized  in  which  the  Boys'  School  competed 
with  the  girls  from  the  Chateau.  The  last 
remaining  glamour  that  Philippa  had  for  Sam 
Boulden  was  dispelled  when  she  defeated  him 
for  the  championship,  cheered  on  by  all  of 
the  Lanoraie  population  that  had  stuck  out 
the  long  isolated  winter  in  the  little  town. 
When  the  girls  began  to  get  a  little  bored 
and  blue  with  the  long  stretch  of  work 
287 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Madame  suggested  to  Philippa  that  she  pro- 
mote a  school  paper.  This  she  did,  but  when 
she  tried  to  make  Helen  Odell  editor,  Helen 
very  firmly  refused  to  have  anything  to  do 
with  it.  This  troubled  Philippa.  While 
Helen  was  not  actively  unfriendly  to  her, 
there  was  no  renewal  of  their  intimacy  and 
the  older  girl  kept  aloof  from  her  as  well  as 
from  all  the  other  girls.  At  the  same  time 
she  seemed  to  cling  to  Madame. 

"It  seems  sort  of  unreasonable  to  me," 
grumbled  Philippa  to  herself.  "I  did  exactly 
what  Madame  wanted  me  to  do  and  yet  she 
doesn't  blame  Madame,  but  does  seem  to 
blame  me."  There  was  no  time,  however,  to 
brood,  with  school  work  and  with  the  editor- 
ship of  the  paper  which  the  girls  insisted  on 
endowing  the  American  girl  with.  Philippa 
distinguished  herself  by  writing  a  rhymed 
sketch  of  the  Lanoraie  notables.  It  was 
rather  clever  doggerel  and  the  little  thrusts  at 
the  townspeople  were  good-natured.  So 
Madame  had  another  soiree  where  the  Cuth- 
berts  and  Austins  laughed  consumedly  to  hear 
themselves  immortalized  in  verse  and  where 
Mr.  Ross  Cuthbert  and  Mademoiselle  did  not 
exchange  a  single  word. 
288 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

As  soon  as  the  sap  began  to  run  in  the  sugar 
maples  Madame  organized  a  wonderful  winter 
picnic  in  the  sugar  bush.  They  went  on  long 
"traines"  on  which  straw  and  rugs  were 
piled  and  they  saw  the  syrup  boiled  in  huge 
kettles  over  roaring  wood  fires.  They 
sampled  it  in  every  stage,  from  the  thin  fluid 
into  which  slices  of  bread  were  cast  and  eggs 
boiled  to  the  waxy  "latire"  which  was  ladled 
out  on  shelves  of  snow  and  devoured  as  soon 
as  it  hardened  to  the  crackling  point.  At  the 
very  end  the  syrup  was  poured  into  little  molds 
of  fish  or  hearts  or  tiny  tablets,  which  they 
were  able  to  take  home  with  them  as  soon  as 
the  sugar  had  hardened.  In  between  feasts 
at  all  these  various  stages  they  consumed  sub- 
stantial food,  with  salt  meat  and  sour  or  salt 
pickles  to  whet  their  appetites  for  more  maple 
sugar.  Certainly  nobody  but  school  girls 
could  come  home  from  such  a  revel  with  red 
cheeks  and  sparkling  eyes  and  protests  that 
they  had  never  had  such  a  good  time  before. 
Helen  Odell  would  not  go  on  this  picnic. 

A  few  days  after  that  came  a  decided  thaw. 

The  roads  became  impassable;  the  river  was 

covered  with  slush  two  feet  deep ;  there  were 

rumors  that  the  ice  was  cracking  that  warned 

289 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

all  snowshoers  and  teams  away.  One  night 
they  heard  loud  reports,  which  the  girls  told 
Philippa  meant  that  the  ice  was  cracking. 
The  next  day  there  were  streaks  of  water 
visible;  in  the  middle  of  the  river  they  could 
see  a  swiftly  running  current. 

"It  looks  as  though  the  ice  would  go  down 
quickly  this  year,"  Madame  said  at  the  table. 
"If  the  mild  weather  continues  it  undoubtedly 
will." 

"What  happens  if  it  doesn't?"  asked  Phil- 
ippa, expert  enough  by  this  time  in  French  to 
find  the  right  words  without  hesitation. 
"And  what  harm  would  be  done  if  it  should 
freeze  again  ?" 

"If  anything  happens  below  here  to  choke 
the  channel,  the  great  cakes  of  ice  pile  up. 
Then,  if  it  freezes,  the  ice  is  built  into  a  solid 
obstruction,  the  water  is  dammed  up,  and  we 
have  high  water." 

"But  we  are  way  up  above  the  embank- 
ment   " 

"That  isn't  anything  at  all  in  face  of  a  real 
flood.  Of  course,  the  river  never  has  risen 
high  enough  to  be  dangerous.  But  it  isn't 
very  pleasant  to  have  a  flood." 

"Oh,  but  it's  fun"  said  Bertha.  "They  tie 
290 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

the  wooden  sidewalks  together  and  anchor 
them  so  they  won't  float  away  entirely,  and 
you  jump  from  one  to  the  other  as  if  they 
were  rafts." 

Nothing  but  the  realization  that  Madame 
dreaded  high  water  could  keep  Philippa  from 
hoping  that  it  might  happen.  When  it  began 
to  get  very  cold  again  that  night  she  waited 
with  excitement  to  see  what  would  happen. 
The  wind  rose,  too,  and  she  wondered  if  that 
would  not  be  apt  to  crash  cakes  of  ice  together. 
And  others  would  pile  up  against  the  obstruc- 
tion and  then How  could  any  girl  keep 

from  hoping  for  all  the  excitement  that  could 
possibly  come? 

The  next  day  was  Sunday.  Everything 
seemed  quite  as  usual  as  they  went  to  church 
except  that  Philippa  could  see  the  water  really 
was  higher  in  the  river.  When  they  came 
out  it  was  almost  up  to  the  top  of  the  embank- 
ment. 

But  Sunday  dinner  was  too  absorbing  a 
matter  to  hungry  school  girls  not  to  drive 
other  thoughts  out.  All  through  the  meat 
course  Philippa's  thought  was  concentrated 
on  the  important  question;  would  the  desert 
be  ice  cream  and  cake  or  not  ?  She  had  heard 

2QI 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

rumors  that  it  would  be.  To  an  American 
girl  to  whom  ice  cream  soda  and  sundaes  were 
one  of  the  commonplaces  of  existence,  the 
extraordinary  scarceness  of  ice  cream  in  La- 
noraie  was  a  never-failing  source  of  wonder. 

The  question  had  just  been  most  satisfac- 
torily answered  by  Angelique's  appearance 
bearing  a  huge  platter  of  ice  cream.  An- 
gelique's countenance  was  all  one  broad  red 
grin.  She  always  insisted  on  taking  any  spe- 
cial treat  in  herself  because  of  the  incidental 
popularity  that  it  shed  on  her.  Philippa  had 
just  enjoyed  the  first  taste  of  ice  cream — with 
— joy  of  joys — hot  maple  syrup  sauce — when 
one  of  the  girls  screamed. 

Everyone  started,  their  eyes  following  the 
direction  of  Flora's.  A  thin  snake  of  water 
was  making  its  way  from  the  baseboard  at 
one  corner  of  the  room.  The  girls  all  rose  as 
excitedly  as  though  they  expected  instant  an- 
nihilation, all  but  Margaret  Dixon,  who  went 
on  unconcernedly  eating  her  cream. 

In  the  excitement  a  tacit  moratorium  as  to 
speaking  French  existed. 

"What's  the  use  of  getting  excited?"  she 
demanded  disgustedly.  "It'll  take  an  hour 
for  it  to  rise  enough  to  wet  your  feet.  And  it 
292 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

never  does  more  than  that,  anyway."  Phil- 
ippa  hesitated  a  moment.  The  testimony  of 
a  veteran  of  three  high  waters,  as  Margaret 
had  proved  herself  to  be,  was  worth  follow- 
ing. So  she  resumed  her  place  and  finished 
the  cream.  For  days  afterward  she  bitterly 
regretted  that  the  excitement  had  prevented 
her  from  getting  the  full  enjoyment  of  the 
ice  cream.  She  had  even  refused  a  second 
helping ! 

The  maids  were  quietly  clearing  away 
everything  from  the  side-board  and  serving 
tables  that  would  be  injured  by  the  water. 
And  when  Philippa  and  Margaret  had  fin- 
ished they  aided  Madame  and  the  maids  to 
carry  the  dishes  out  to  the  pantry,  which, 
being  a  step  higher,  would,  in  all  probability, 
not  be  flooded.  When  the  table-cloths  were 
off  the  chairs  were  piled  up  on  the  stout  black 
walnut  tables.  By  this  time  the  water  com- 
pletely covered  the  sunken  edges  of  the  floor. 
As  they  retreated  before  the  encroaching 
water  Philippa,  from  the  door;  looked  back. 
The  big  room,  stripped  and  stark,  looked  very 
strange  and  somber  to  her. 

"What  will  we  do  for  supper?"  she  won- 
dered. The  thought  of  picnicking  perhaps  in 
293 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

the  big  drawing  room  or  the  school  room  was 
exhilarating. 

Immediately  after  dinner  all  the  girls 
rushed  out  of  the  house,  headed  by  Miss 
Shelby,  who,  in  the  excitement,  seemed  almost 
human.  It  was  true,  as  Bertha  had  said,  the 
sidewalks  on  Empire  Street  were  being,  in 
many  places,  lifted  from  their  supports  and 
floated  by  the  flood ;  the  street  was  completely 
covered  with  water.  Laughing  and  squeal- 
ing when  some  tipping  board  threatened  to 
upset  them,  the  girls  pushed  on,  trying,  with 
a  delightful  sense  of  adventure,  each  cross 
street  as  well  as  Empire.  As  far  as  they 
could  see  on  the  river  side  stretched  the 
water ;  the  ice  was  completely  flooded,  so  they 
could  not  see  what  was  happening.  If  the 
ice  was  breaking  up  the  cakes  were  not  yet 
small  enough  to  float.  All  they  could  see  of 
the  island  was  the  little  mound  on  which  were 
the  farmhouse  and  barn  and  out-buildings. 
In  spite  of  assurances  that  the  water  had 
often  been  high  before  and  had  never  done 
any  damage,  there  was  enough  uncertainty  to 
add  a  thrill  of  fear  to  the  situation.  Parts  of 
the  side-streets,  however,  were  still  unflooded 
and  the  back  street  not  at  all.  When  they  met 
294 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Jeff  and  some  of  the  other  boys  from  the 
school  they  learned  that  nothing  exciting  had 
happened  there  at  all.  Needless  to  say,  the 
boys  all  thought  themselves  much  injured 
that  this  was  the  case. 

When  they  got  back  they  found  the  dining 
room  covered  by  several  inches  of  water. 
Supper — sandwiches,  cake  and  cocoa — was 
served  amid  great  hilarity  in  the  school  room. 
The  girls  were  all  joyous  with  excitement,  but 
Philippa  noticed  that  Madame  looked  a  little 
anxious;  and  she  heard  her  telling  Miss 
Shelby  that  the  flood  was  now  within  half  an 
inch  of  its  greatest  recorded  height.  After 
supper  they  all  stayed  together  in  the  school 
room,  and  Mademoiselle  played  all  of  their 
favorite  hymns  for  them  to  sing.  Then 
someone  asked  Madame  to  read  to  them.  So 
she  brought  out  some  of  Drummond's  "habi- 
tant" poems  and  held  them  spell-bound  with 
her  inimitable  mimicry  and  delicate  insight 
into  French-Canadian  character. 

Then  they  parted  for  the  quiet  time  alone 
in  their  rooms  that  always  seemed  to  bring 
a  final  peace  to  the  close  of  each  day.  Phil- 
ippa could  see  that  the  cold  was  moderating 
and  that  there  was  a  raw  hint  of  rain  or  snow 
20  295 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

in  the  air.  The  wind,  too,  had  risen  still 
more.  She  could  not  sleep  for  some  time  for 
wondering  what  was  going  to  happen. 

When  morning  came  the  situation  seemed 
unchanged.  The  water  was  certainly  no 
higher.  They  had  a  sort  of  buffet  breakfast 
in  the  school  room  and  the  routine  of  the  day 
went  on,  unchanged  except  for  the  change  of 
dining  room.  School  was  over  for  the  day  at 
three  o'clock.  Madame  had  requested  the 
girls  not  to  go  out  of  the  house ;  there  seemed 
to  be  enough  danger  of  unexpected  duckings 
in  the  flooded  streets  to  make  staying  indoors 
reasonable.  The  Chateau,  not  being  a  mod- 
ern school,  was  not  equipped  with  a  gymna- 
sium for  indoor  exercise.  Philippa,  loitering 
about  her  room,  deprived  of  the  hardy  out- 
door sports  that  she  had  become  accustomed 
to  at  home,  felt  at  loose  ends.  She  turned 
over  the  leaves  of  several  books  that  she  had 
thought  she  was  longing  to  read,  but  they  did 
not  look  interesting. 

Suddenly  she  heard  a  loud — a  deafening — 
report.  Coming  out  of  complete  silence  as  it 
did,  the  effect  was  startling.  Philippa's  mind 
ran  the  wildest  gamut  of  surmises,  from  some 
belated  war-time  bomb  going  off  to  an  explo- 
296 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

sion  of  dynamite  in  some  car  on  the  siding. 
Another — more  deafening — report  followed. 
She  rushed  out  into  the  hall  and  found  Mar- 
garet Dixon  and  several  other  girls  there 
before  her. 

"It's  the  ice  piling  up,"  said  Margaret 
Dixon.  "I  can  see  it  from  my  window.  It's 
started  to  come  down  and  a  great  lot  of  huge 
cakes  smashed  together.  They've  crashed 
into  a  pile  about  thirty  feet  above  the  embank- 
ment." Margaret  with  her  cheeks  burning 
red  and  her  eyes  brilliant  with  excitement  was 
transformed.  "I'm  going  down  on  the  gal- 
lery to  see  it." 

Most  of  the  girls  followed  her;  the  house 
was  full  of  stir  and  murmur.  Helen  Odell 
came  out  of  her  room. 

"Come  with  me,"  she  said.  "I'm  going  to 
ask  Madame  if  we  can't  go  up  on  the  roof. 
It  will  be  a  wonderful  sight.  You  mustn't 
miss  it."  Helen,  too,  was  changed,  shaken 
out  of  the  moping  despondency  of  the  last 
weeks.  She  caught  Philippa's  hand  and  they 
ran  downstairs.  Madame  and  Mademoiselle 
were  out  in  the  hall,  with  the  same  thought 
in  their  minds  as  Helen's  evidently.  The 
four  of  them  found  the  steep  ladder-like  stairs 
297 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

that  led  from  the  attic  out  on  the  roof.  Helen 
was  the  first  one  up  and  then  hung  over  the 
edge  of  the  trapdoor  to  help  pull  the  others  up. 

It  was  a  wonderful  thing  to  be  out  on  the 
roof,  high  above  all  the  gigantic  turmoil  of 
the  river  and  yet  able  to  see  it  all.  They 
could  see  the  jagged  wall  of  ice  that  now 
reached  almost  across  the  channel.  Another 
great  wash  of  the  water  crashed  other  huge 
cakes  against  the  wall  with  a  roar  that  almost 
frightened  them,  high  above  it  all  as  they 
were.  They  felt  the  roof  tremble  under  their 
feet. 

"It  looks  as  though  the  dam  would  reach 
clear  across  to  the  island,"  Helen  said,  in  a 
hushed  voice.  "Has  that  ever  happened?" 

"Never,  as  far  as  I  can  remember,"  said 
Madame's  hushed  voice.  "And  people  who 
lived  here  before  me  have  never  told  of  it." 

"What  can  prevent  it?  And  what  would 
happen  if  it  did?" 

"Nothing  but  a  decided  change  in  wind  or 
current,  I  should  think,  would  prevent  it.  If 
this  goes  on  the  water  will  be  higher  than  it 
has  ever  been." 

"But  they  could  go  out  and  cut  through  it 
somehow,  couldn't  they?"  asked  Philippa. 
298 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"I  suppose  so.  Or  much  warmer  weather 
would  soften  the  ice  so  the  current  would  wear 
a  passage  through.  It  is  thawing  now — 
hear  the  dripping  from  the  eaves.  But — 
meantime — we  may  be  inconvenienced."  She 
smiled  serenely. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

rHERE  was  a  strange  lull.     The  wind 
fell  and  the  roaring  of  the  water  was 

hushed.  In  the  quiet  they  could  hear  the 
drip-drip-drop  as  the  winter-old  ice  on  the 
eaves  melted  before  the  strong  young  sun. 
When  a  piece  of  ice  detached  itself  and  fell 
to  the  ground  it  made,  in  the  silence,  a  report 
like  a  distant  pistol  shot.  With  pulses  tuned 
to  further  excitement,  Philippa  felt  almost 
irritated  at  the  delay. 

"I  wonder  if  nothing  more  is  going  to  hap- 
pen," she  sighed. 

"Oh,  look!"  The  voice,  with  a  sort  of  awe 
underlying  the  wonder,  was  Helen's. 
"There's  a  bird's  nest  right  under  the  eaves 
here.  You  can  see  it  if  you  lean  over — 
there."  • 

"Doucement — carefully,  mes  enfants!" 
called  Madame.  "The  roof  slopes  much  just 

beyond  this  place." 

300 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

Helen  drew  back,  her  eyes  shining  brightly. 

"She  is  there  on  the  nest,  the  little  brown 
mother,"  she  said.  "She  looked  up  at  me  as 
if  she  knew  I  wouldn't  disturb  her  eggs  for 
the  world." 

"It's  a  robin,"  Philippa  announced. 
"Gosh!  I  didn't  suppose  it  was  thinking  of 
being  spring." 

"Look!  Oh,  look!"  Mademoiselle  was 
pointing  up  the  river.  A  huge  wave  was 
bearing  down  on  the  ice  jam,  a  wave  that 
carried  on  its  crest  plunging,  bobbing  cakes 
of  ice.  There  was  a  deafening  report  as  it 
hurled  itself  against  the  obstruction  in  its 
path,  a  roar  as  it  recoiled.  Splinters  of  ice 
crashed  down  like  spray.  They  felt  the 
tremor  of  the  earth  through  the  staunch  old 
house  under  their  feet.  Then,  in  place  of  the 
subsidence  they  had  expected,  came  a  new 
commotion.  The  wind,  coming  from  the  east 
instead  of  from  the  west,  rose,  howling. 
Current  and  waves  and  ice  fought,  at  the  end 
of  the  dam,  a  frantic  battle  whose  sign  was 
a  whirlpool  on  which  cakes  of  ice  charged 
only  to  bob  about  helplessly  in  a  circle.  All 
along  the  wall  of  ice  ran  an  uneasy  trembling. 
A  new  wave,  a  greater  one,  charged  it.  The 
301 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

dam  groaned ;  again  the  house  under  their  feet 
telegraphed  to  them  the  impact.  With  a 
deafening  roar  the  ice- jam  broke.  Instantly 
the  river  below  it  was  filled  with  floating 
cakes  of  ice 

"So  has  that  danger  passed,"  said  Madame's 
tranquil  voice.  "It  seems  almost  a  miracle 
— but  then  all  life  is  a  miracle,  n'est-ce 
pas?" 

They  stayed  on,  fascinated  by  the  brawling 
river.  Every  minute,  it  seemed,  it  grew 
warmer. 

"The  temperature  is  rising  at  least  a  degree 
a  minute,"  said  Philippa  dogmatically.  "But 
look!"  called  Philippa.  "What's  that  black 
thing  on  that  cake  of  ice,  there — there — where 
I'm  pointing?" 

"It's  moving,"  said  Mademoiselle,  her  lips 
suddenly  white.  "Something  is  being  carried 
down.  It's  too  small  to  be  a  man." 

The  cake  of  ice  with  its  living  burden  came 
nearer  to  them.  They  heard  a  distant 
sound 

"Barking,"  said  Mademoiselle.  "It's  a  dog. 

Oh,  the  poor  thing Can't  somebody 

save  it.  The  cake  of  ice  he's  on  will  be  float- 
ing near  to  shore  like  those  others  in  a  few 

302 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

moments — that  would  be  the  chance  to  get 
him  off.  Oh,  I  wish  I  were  there.  Won't 
somebody  help!"  She  was  wringing  her 
hands  and  the  tears  were  raining  down  her 
face.  "The  poor  little  chap.  Help  him — 
somebody." 

As  if  her  words  had  been  heard  they  saw  a 
man  making  his  way  down  to  a  point  where 
a  knoll  of  higher  ground  still  remained  un- 
covered by  the  water,  a  .point  near  which  the 
newly  liberated  current  was  sweeping  down 
the  icy  debris. 

"He's  kneeling  down,  trying  to  coax  the 
dog  to  jump."  Philippa's  sharp  eyes  were 
following  his  every  motion.  "Oh — I  say — 
it's  Mr.  Ross  Cuthbert.  I  do  hope  he'll  be 
careful.  If  he  slipped " 

"That  isn't  Mr.  Ross  Cuthbert.  It  cannot 
be,"  said  Madame  with  conviction. 

"Oh,  Madame,  I'm  quite  sure  it  is.  Don't 
you  think  it  is,  Mademoiselle?" 

"Yes,"  said  Mademoiselle  tonelessly.  "I 
am  sure  it  is." 

Helen  looked  sympathetically  up  into  her 
face. 

Driven  closer  by  the  current  the  big  cakes 
of  ice  closed  in  around  the  one  on  which  was 
303 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

the  little  black  dog.  His  frantic  yelping 
could  now  be  plainly  heard.  The  ice- 
pack drifted  near — nearer  to  the  spot 
where  the  man  knelt,  his  hand  outstretched 
coaxingly. 

"Oh,  why  doesn't  the  dog  jump — why 
doesn't  he  jump?  If  he  doesn't  I'm  afraid 

Ross "  Philippa  heard  Mademoiselle 

say  under  her  breath. 

Simultaneously  they  heard  a  shout  from 
shore  and  saw  a  flying  figure. 

"Oh,  how  could  he  ?  It's  death !"  A  voice 
that  no  one  of  them  had  ever  heard  before 
wailed  in  their  ears. 

But  Madame  has  pressed  close  to  her 
daughter. 

"But,  ma  bien-aimee,  he  is  then  good,  that 
Ross  Cuthbert."  Her  voice  was  absolutely 
indescribable  in  its  medley  of  emotions;  ter- 
ror— regret — triumph.  More  than  anything 
else  it  was  joy. 

But  Mimi  was  too  convulsed  with  terror  to 
do  more  than  hold  her  mother's  hand  in  an 
agonized  grip.  Philippa  yelled: 

"Oh,  there's  Jeff — I  wondered  how  he — 

What's  he ?  Oh,  a  lasso !  We  all  used 

to  laugh  at  him.  Always  trying  to  lasso 
304 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

everything.  Missed,  you  egg!  Oh!  Got 
him!  Got  him  just  right.  Over  the  right 
arm  and  under  the  left.  Oh,  good  old  Jeff! 
Great  work !  Gosh,  but  I'm  glad  Jeff  got  in 
it," 

"If  he  jumps  I'm  afraid  he'll  get  under  the 
ice,"  Mademoiselle  moaned. 

"Can't.  If  he  misses  Jeff'll  pull  him  out. 
Now's  the  time.  Jump,  you  simp !" 

Cuthbert  had  jumped,  the  little  black  ani- 
mal clutched  close  to  him.  Mimi  hid  her 
eyes. 

"If  he  should  get  under  the  ice !" 

"But  he  made  it!"  rang  out  Philippa's 
triumphant  voice.  "Good  work,  Old  Scout! 
But  Jeff  helped  you!" 

Mimi  took  down  her  hands 

"I  don't  see  him." 

"Oh,  the  ice  spilled  him  off,  of  course,  but 
Jeff  is  pulling  him  in.  See?  He's  holding 
the  dog  up  above  his  head.  There !" 

Mimi  was  in  her  mother's  arms,  her  face 
hidden. 

"How  I  have  been  hard,"  her  mother  mur- 
mured to  her.  "Because  of  one  man  to 
always  distrust !  A  man  who  would  risk  his 

life  for  a  dog " 

305 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

"And  it  wasn't  even  his  own!"  sobbed 
Mimi. 

"I  suppose  they'll  be  getting  engaged  now," 
said  Philippa,  in  a  low  voice  to  Helen.  "And 
I'll  say  it's  time.  Mademoiselle  must  be 
almost  twenty-four." 

They  all  felt  too  limp  to  move.  They  sat 
watching  the  swiftly  flowing  river.  The 
wind  was  dying  down  and  the  sun  shone 
warmly.  All  at  once  they  heard,  down  under 
the  eaves,  a  robin  sing. 

"Why  it  is  spring,"  said  Philippa,  in  genu- 
ine astonishment. 

Helen,  standing  back  of  her,  put  a  hand  on 
her  shoulder. 

"Yes,  it's  spring,"  she  said.  And  I'm 
— I'm  happy.  "And — I've  known  this  for 
a  long  time  but  I  couldn't  say  it  before. 
You  and  Madame  were  right.  And — to-day 
— I  know  somehow  that  I'm  only  at  the 
beginning " 

Philippa  wheeled  around.  Helen's  face 
was  wistfully  sweet  and  she  looked  at  Phil- 
ippa with  affectionate  eyes. 

"Oh,  good,"  Philippa  burst  out.  "Now 
everything's  just  trick.  We're  friends  and 
you're  happy  again  and  it's  spring  and  I'm 

306 


PHILIPPA  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

friends  with  everybody  and  pretty  soon  I'll 
go  home  and  Doreen's  wedding  will  be  lots  of 
fun  and  everybody's  happy.  Gosh,  it  must 
be  ten  hours  since  lunch.  I'll  say  I'm 
starved." 


THE  END 


BOOKS    BY 

KATE    DICKINSON 
SWEETSER 


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BOYS  AND  GIRLS  FROM  THACKERAY 

BOOK  OF  INDIAN  BRA  FES 

TEN  GREAT  ADVENTURES 

TEN  AMERICAN  GIRLS  FROM  HISTORY 

"Particularly  spirited  is  Miss  Sweetser's  biograph- 
ical work.  Accuracy  of  historic  fact  has  been  the 
author's  commendable  aim  in  all  her  books.  Luck- 
ily she  has  likewise  treated  her  characters  as  human 
beings,  something  which  cannot  be  said  of  most 
writers  of  biography  for  children." — The  Nation. 

Octavo,  Pictorial  Covers,  numerous  full-page  illus- 
trations, many  in  color 


HARPER  &  BROTHERS 
NEW  YORK       ESTABLISHED  1817       LONDON 


Gift  Books 

Illustrations  in  Color 


THE  PRINCE  AND  THE  PAUPER 

BY  MARK  TWAIN 

Grown-ups  are  delighted  to  discover  this  beautiful 
gift  edition  of  The  Prince  and  the  Pauper — the  story 
which  Mark  Twain  himself  numbered  as  among  those 
of  his  works  which  he  liked  best.  With  full-color  fron- 
tispiece, wrapper,  cover  insert  and  eight  full-color  illustra- 
tions by  Franklin  Booth. 

THE  ADVENTURES  OF  TOM  SAWYER 

BY  MARK  TWAIN 

This  edition,  new  in  format  and  illustration,  has 
been  brought  out  to  supply  the  demand  for  a  finer 
edition  of  this  famous  Mark  Twain  classic.  With  full- 
color  wrapper,  cover  insert,  frontispiece,  and  sixteen 
illustrations  by  Worth  Brehm. 

THE  MYSTERIOUS  STRANGER 

BY  MARK  TWAIN 

This  especially  attractive  edition  is  befitting  the 
most  important  work  of  Twain's  later  life — this  story 
of  the  supernatural,  whimsically  strange,  fascinating — 
in  short,  the  book  which  is  Mark  Twain.  With  futt- 
color  frontispiece,  cover  insert  and  eight  illustrations  in 
futt  color  by  AT.  C.  Wyeth. 

HOWARD  PYLE'S  BOOK  OF  PIRATES 

BY  HOWARD   PYLE 

As  a  gift  book  for  anyone  old  or  young  who  "likes 
stories  about  pirates,"  or  for  the  collector  of  beautiful 
books,  the  equal  of  this  book  cannot  be  found.  Howard 
Pyle  was  able  to  express  with  pen  and  brush  all  the 
roistering,  daredevil  spirit  for  which  the  legendary 
pirates  stand.  Forty-one  illustrations,  seventeen  in  color, 
twenty-four  in  black-and-white,  all  by  Howard  Pyle. 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS 

FRANKLIN  SQUARE  NEW  YORK 


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